


The Boy in the Hammock

by galfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, I will add more tags when I remember what the heck I wrote in the this story, Smut, no hammocks were harmed in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 57,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2221878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galfoy/pseuds/galfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione tugged at the string holding the hood onto the boy's head, gingerly pulling the fabric back to reveal his face. Lying before her, barely recognizable beyond the swelling and the blood, but still very much himself, was Draco Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was first published in 2011 on FF.net but I am migrating it over here because A03 is made of awesome. This was the first story I ever wrote, and I was still just learning the ropes when I published it. It was a bit of a test to see what I liked and didn't like about my own writing. Although my style (and confidence) has changed and grown over the years, I'm still proud of this little experiment. I only wish I could bring all the nice comments over from FF.net. Ah well!

_Run faster, run faster, run faster..._

Hermione ran as though her life depended on it, because at this particular moment in time, it did. She couldn't afford to be caught, not now, not ever.

The tent was a lost cause. It was left back at their camp, back with Harry and Ron, she hoped. She hoped more than anything they wouldn't get taken… That they would stay inside the protective barrier until the snatchers were gone. Hermione only wished she had been that sensible - it had been over a day and a half since they had found food, and in a moment of desperation, she had left the safe confines of the tent to find something to eat. The boys were inside sleeping. Maybe they had yet to wake. She could only hope.

_Idiot. Bloody well walked into an entire group of snatchers, of course. The one time you take a chance._

The second she saw the snatchers, menacing and sneering, and in larger numbers than she would have expected, she ran in the opposite direction of the boys. It was sheer instinct, and she was glad for it. Harry and Ron couldn't be caught. They were worth more than she was. She ran through the cramp that had embedded itself in her side. She ran beyond the point of knowing how to get back. But it had to be on foot... She knew if she disapparated, she would never find the boys again. If she could only outrun them...

She chanced a look over her shoulder as her feet propelled her forward. At least twenty of them, all following closely, shooting hexes at her. It was a miracle she hadn't been hit yet, saved by the thick brush and the speed of her own exhausted legs.

_Run faster, run faster, run faster..._

But really, there was no chance. With every stride, it was becoming clearer. There was no losing them in numbers like this. She would have to leave. She would have to be separated from Harry and Ron or she would die, and so would they.

Her chest constricted with panic as the realization hit her. It was only a matter of time until they would wake up and notice her absence. They would go looking for her. She had to get the snatchers to leave this forest, and they would only do so if it seemed there was nothing here for them. After all, it certainly looked like she was alone.

Her muscles were shaking as she ran. Her long hair had come loose and was streaming behind her.

A quick mental inventory reminded her that she still had her bag, although most of its contents were back in the tent. It held a few useful things - mostly medical supplies, random camping gear, books, a blanket and one measly hammock. Thank God she had her wand.

Another peek over her shoulder told her they were gaining. She picked up speed, her lungs burning and her eyes tearing up. The stitch in her side was screaming with pain. There was really no other choice, was there?

_I can't believe I'm going to be separated from them. After all this. How could I be so stupid?_

Up ahead, she caught a flicker of movement, and realized that the snatchers were surrounding her. A hex whizzed by her ear, barely missing her. It was now or never.

_I'm so sorry Harry, Ron._

With a sudden stop, a choked sob and a quick turn of her feet, she was gone.

* * *

 

She reappeared in another forest at nightfall, swallowing a shaky cry and clutching her side. It was done. They were on their own now, unless she could find a way back to them before they ran for it. She didn't dare go back anytime soon with that many snatchers keeping a look out for her.

_Please don't get caught. Don't let this be in vain._

Dropping to her knees, Hermione noticed for the first time that her cheeks were soaked with tears. She brushed them distractedly, managing only to smear them with dirt from her dusty, trembling hands.

"Fuck," she muttered into the darkness.

The three of them had talked about what would happen if they were separated, of course. They knew it was a possibility, and it had nearly happened so many times... But they all prayed they could manage to stay together. They were a team; they each fulfilled different parts of a whole. She didn't know how to function without them.

The whole was broken now. Scattered parts of a puzzle. Her Harry, her Ron, all alone. She loved them both so much it _hurt_.

Another sob escaped her lips, and her mouth shook with the effort of holding in the impending flood of grief.

_Suck it up Hermione. You got yourself into this mess, now get yourself out._

The least she could do was survive. Survive and not fall apart while she worked on a plan. She looked around cautiously.

This forest was damper than the last one. The smell of rot hung heavily in the air, and the dark branches creaked overhead. Slippery rocks and slimy moss squished under her fingers as she righted herself. She would need to find shelter of some sort, especially since the convenience of her tent was gone. One hammock and a few supplies. She snorted at the stupidity of the situation. She'd be lucky not to starve out here, and it was already so dark out... Not to mention the chill...

_Best get the lay of the land, check for snatchers. Don't set up camp until you know you're safe._

Steadying herself and taking a big breath, she straightened her shoulders and began to walk.

Safe was a relative term; she had learned that over the past year and a half. A year and a half of scrounging for food, living in a tent, and managing her relationships with the two people who meant more to her than anything. They had eventually found a good rhythm, she and her boys. They had nearly killed each other a few times, but living in tight quarters with very little to eat will do that to you.

They still had their tense moments, but now they were easier to avoid. At this point, they all knew each other so well they could spot a bad mood from a mile away. It was a little unnerving, how easily they read each other's thoughts.

_I miss them already._

Hermione was beginning to realize that she really didn't like this forest at all. It had popped into her mind when she needed to disapparate, but now she was wondering if she should cut her losses and think of another location. Something here felt... Wrong. Too much darkness. Too much of that heavy feeling one gets around dark magic. It felt suffocating. It no longer felt like the woods she visited on a school trip as a child.

_Just give it another few minutes before you decide._

Trudging up a slippery hill, Hermione momentarily leaned against an oak tree for support. With her feet no longer moving, and her breath calming again, she was able to listen more closely to the sounds of the forest. It was eerily quiet.

That's when she heard it. A muffled cry. Two angry voices. She sucked in a breath and froze.

There it was again! It was coming from somewhere up ahead. The angry voices were getting louder, and there was a muted scuffling sound, like someone trying to get away.

_Who is it? Death Eaters? Snatchers? Muggles? Please let them be Muggles..._

Swallowing her panic, she cast a silencing spell on herself and an extra charm to camouflage her body. She had to know who the voices belonged to. If these woods weren't safe, it was time to move on, and quickly.

Hermione crept towards the noise, being careful to stay hidden in the brush, regardless of the spells that protected her. She didn't believe in being too careful, not after tonight. A little foresight like this might have saved her earlier. Damn the hunger for making her sloppy.

Rounding a corner, she saw them, and felt her stomach drop. Two Death Eaters, big hulking men, kicking the life out of someone on the ground. The victim had stopped fighting back, either because they were knocked unconscious or because they were hoping that the next blow would finish them. Hermione heard them whimper and saw their hand twitch in the darkness, the paleness of their skin the only thing she could see clearly.

_Not quite unconscious, then. Just in too much pain to react. I… I think that's actually worse._

The person's face was covered by the hood of their jumper, but they seemed to be wearing Muggle jeans and sneakers. The fabric of their clothes was stained deeply with blood, their chest area a dripping mess. They convulsed briefly on the ground.

One of the Death Eaters kicked them in the stomach and Hermione heard a crunch.

The second Death Eater kicked them in the face and there was a definitive crack.

Another crunching kick to the side.

_They won't have any ribs left at this rate! They won't live through this!_

Her stomach turned.

She noticed that the person's left foot was jutting out at a strange angle. They weren't going to last much longer if the Death Eater's didn't let up.

_Shit shit shit. I can't just leave them._

Hermione's brain kicked into overdrive. What did she have to lose? She was on the run anyway, always inches from death, it seemed. Maybe this was worth a gamble. She wouldn't be Hermione Granger if she walked away from this situation without at least _trying_ to help the person who was a few well-aimed kicks from the grave.

The sound of the beating was interrupted when one of the attackers spoke.

"Think you were clever, hey boy?" sneered a Death Eater. "Think you could betray the Dark Lord and get away with it?"

He spat on the victim before breaking another rib with his foot.

Hermione's eyes bugged out. _Say what?_

"Too bad you wouldn't tell us what you did with what you stole. It's rather stupid to play noble at this point, don't you think?" growled the second Death Eater. "Nobody's gonna save you out here. Nobody thinks you're a hero here. You can't serve the Dark Lord and then suddenly decide to play good guy." He laughed, a deranged cackle, and his colleague joined in.

The boy on the ground gurgled something in response.

"What was that, traitor?" yelled the first Death Eater.

A ragged breath came up from the body.

"Just kill me," came the quiet response. "I won't tell you where it is."

Hermione couldn't see the faces of the attackers, but she was willing to bet they were sneering.

"You want to die, do you? Well, we'll get there eventually," the Death Eater chuckled, strutting up to the boy. He leaned down to the boy's ear, and whispered just loud enough for Hermione to hear: "But first, I think I'd like to break a few more bones. Maybe hang you by your feet a bit. Cut off a limb. Bleed you until you're screaming for mercy. Then, then maybe I'll be kind enough to kill you."

Bile rose in Hermione's throat.

_Disgusting animals. Filthy, cowardly, bloody animals._

She made a few last-minute calculations in her head before getting ready to leave the safety of her hiding place.

_It's now or never._

As the second Death Eater approached the boy's broken body, Hermione shot a spell off into the distance, and heard a satisfying popping sound that was loud enough to make both Death Eater's jump.

"What in the hell was that?" shouted one, stepping back. "These woods are supposed to be deserted!"

In their concern, they started to move away from the boy, looking out for intruders. They had turned completely away from Hermione and the victim, straining to find the source of the sound.

Another loud POP in the distance, thanks to Hermione's spell.

The Death Eater's tensed and pointed their wands into the darkness. "Who goes there?" shouted one of them.

Two quick but powerful stunning spells to their backs, and in six short steps, she reached the body. She grasped the thin, pale hand of the victim, slippery with blood. Focusing with all her strength, she apparated them both far away to a place she knew they wouldn't be followed.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The cave was just as she remembered it. She, Harry and Ron had only stayed here for a night before moving on, much to her dismay. They complained it was too small, too remote to be able to find food and hide comfortably.

Not that they were ever really comfortable on the run, but she suspected the boys found the cave a bit too claustrophobic for their liking.

Hermione disagreed. From the minute she found the cave, she felt welcomed and safe. It was dry, exceptionally well hidden, and was located in a remote but extremely stunning part of the mountainous region they had been crossing. She would have been happy to stay there for months, had the boys let her.

Not only that, but the cave calmed her. It was as though it contained some deep, soothing magic that spoke directly to her soul. Ron and Harry didn't seem to notice it, but to Hermione, the cave practically hummed with warmth.

Now she was here again, the familiar calming hum surrounding her, and she couldn't be more thankful. Being separated from Harry and Ron, not to mention the presence of the broken body in front of her, was enough to keep her on the brink of panic. She needed the steady rhythm she knew the cave would provide. She also knew, although she couldn't explain it, that the cave would keep her safe.

The body in front of her stirred, and Hermione looked down, seeing the damage up close for the first time.

Blood. So much blood. Blood dripping across the boy's chest and down his arms, leaking off his fingers. Deep stains on the legs of his jeans. Blood soaking through the hood that covered his face and head. Hermione shuddered to think of the damage hiding underneath. The sharp smell of the blood was inescapable, filling up the small cave within seconds.

She felt her stomach heave, and stumbled to the mouth of the cave to be sick. Harry and Ron had seen their share of bad injuries over the past year and a half, all healed by her, but this was different. The scope of the damage was far worse, for one. She didn't even know if she could heal the wounds, as much as her skills had improved thanks to an unwelcome amount of practical application.

But besides that, this person was a stranger. She knew Harry and Ron so well, both their minds, and their bodies. Ron, for example, had a click in his left elbow because of a bone that healed badly as a child. Harry had extremely sensitive skin on his left hip from being burned by a terrible hex six months ago. Hermione could identify and explain every scar on their bodies. She knew what made them tick. She wouldn't hesitate to strip them down and heal them, modesty be damned.

But this person? He was bleeding his life out in front of her, and she was terrified to act. Part of her fear was practical - if what she heard was correct, this individual had been working for Voldemort until recently. What if they still were, despite what the Death Eaters had said? What if she was putting herself in immense danger?

On an impractical note, Hermione hadn't spent time with anyone other than Harry and Ron for the past year and a half. Something about being in the presence of someone unknown was deeply unsettling to her. She was too far out of her comfort zone, as fucked up as her comfort zone might be. Even she could admit how strange that was.

_Too bad you didn't consider any of this when you butted in to a dangerous situation._

Oh, who was she kidding? She had been living a 'dangerous situation' for longer than she could remember. Besides, danger or not, she had to act. And since she had acted, she had to finish what she started. That meant keeping this boy alive.

Consequently? That meant healing him.

_Which means I have to look at his injuries, wherever they are._

She gulped, fought down another wave of nausea, and moved back towards the body. He was unconscious, as far as she could tell.

_Deep breath. Start with the skull._

With trembling hands, she pulled at the string holding the hood onto the boy's head, gingerly pulling the fabric back to reveal his face.

And then she screamed.

This was far worse than treating a stranger. This was far worse than she had ever imagined.

Lying before her, barely recognizable beyond the swelling and the blood, but still very much himself, was Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 

_No. No no no no. It can't be him. Him of all people._

She crouched there, immobile with shock.

His broken face lay unmoving, his eyes closed, puffy and blue. Everything about this situation was wrong. Hermione felt her strength slip and started to cry, rocking back and forth with her knees pulled into her chest. Her cracked sobs echoed through the cave. The tears wouldn't stop. They seemed to be pulled from her core, pouring down her cheeks in a river of grief.

_It can't be. It doesn't make sense._

If anything, she only unraveled further the longer she looked at him. It was both confusing and terrifying to see him like this, he being the one who always came off as being so untouchable, so confident. Malfoy, after all, was the one to teach her about blood prejudice before she even knew how Voldemort would dictate her future. Their future, as it turned out.

A strange sense of mourning took over her then.

This was not the strutting, viper-tongued bully she despised. This was, if the Death Eaters were to be believed, someone who had turned his back on the Dark Lord, for a reason Hermione could scarcely imagine. She mourned for the Pureblooded boy who was now dressed in Muggle clothes, barely holding together his broken body. She mourned because she knew, no matter what he had done to her in the past, it no longer mattered. He was now Draco Malfoy, former schoolmate, life hanging by a thread, in need of help.

She mourned as her last shred of innocence was stripped away by the war.

She swallowed, took a shuddering breath, and then she unzipped his sweatshirt.

The damage was obvious even before she got his t-shirt off. The clean lines bled right through the cotton, straight across his chest.

_TRAITOR_

"Oh, Malfoy…" she whispered.

It looked like it had been hacked into him with a knife, the words trailing from one shoulder to the other, dripping down his front.

A muffled groan escaped her lips.

As she continued, peeling off layer after layer, healing what she could, she took inventory.

_Cracked skull._

_Broken nose._

_Broken cheekbone._

_Bruised jaw._

_Eyes swollen shut._

_Bruising around throat - attempted strangling?_

_TRAITOR cut into chest._

_Five broken ribs._

_Extensive bruising on torso._

_Deep cuts on thighs._

_Broken ankle._

And that's only what she could _see_.

He was stripped to his boxers now - _no need to divest him of that final shred of dignity_ \- and she found herself hesitating only briefly before dipping her hands into her healing salve and smoothing it over every exposed inch of his skin.

_Heal him. Pretend you're treating Harry or Ron._

As she worked, she realized how miraculous it was that she even had her healing supplies in her bag. It was hardly a purposeful action on her part; simply an oversight, a mistake that they weren't sitting out in the tent as they often were. There was no doubt in her mind that he would die without them, and even with her help, she was nervous that his body might just give up on him. There was just so much trauma.

_Please don't die on me, Malfoy. Don't give Voldemort the satisfaction. Be a fighter._

The parts of his body that weren't swollen or cut were extremely soft, and she took her time running her fingers along the pale expanse of his form. It was almost meditative, pressing the medicine into each cut, sliding it across his cheekbones, down his bruised neck... He would never know that she had done this, not if she could help it, so she let herself enjoy the zen-like state she was in. It was a surprising discovery, his smooth skin. Malfoy had such a prickly personality, after all. She would have been less surprised if he was covered in scales.

She paused over his forearm at the dark stain that marred his otherwise pearly skin. The Dark Mark. It was so ugly, so vile. It had no place on someone so young, even if they had been bred for this since birth. She skipped that area delicately, not wishing to touch it.

The potion was working its magic now, and the bruising and cuts were slowly starting to heal, hissing as the mixture reached the more irritated parts. It was a satisfying process, and she took a minute to watch his bruises fade from his body. The finger marks around his neck took the longest to heal. Her suspicions had been correct - strangulation - but she wished more than anything that she could have been wrong.

_Nobody deserves this. God Malfoy... What did you do?_

Hermione knew that she would need to give him a bone-growing potion, but she was worried about it. It would be immeasurably painful, especially with the sheer number of breaks he had. Although he was already unconscious, she couldn't risk him waking up while his bones were re-growing. She cringed at the thought of him waking up, nearly naked, in incredible pain, with his least favourite Mudblood hovering over him.

That would be a quick death for her, no doubt. She repressed a smirk at the image in her mind. It would be comical if it didn't involve a certain end to her life.

_Death by naked, angry Malfoy._

She wrinkled her nose and chanced a grin. Okay, it was a funny thought after all.

An idea occurred to her, and after hesitating a moment, she pointed her wand at his chest and stunned him. It would go unnoticed to him in this state, of course, but it would guarantee her several hours of undisturbed working time, and perhaps more if he remained unconscious after the spell wore off. No chance of him waking up in unmanageable pain, no chance of him waking up before she was ready.

Hopefully she would be able to revive him when all this was healed.

As for his reaction when he did wake? Well, she'd just make sure she was prepared.

In the meantime, she had a rather unpleasant task to complete. While she had taken care of his superficial injuries, and would soon give him something for his bones, she knew he needed a proper bath. No amount of s _courgify_ would get that blood off him, and now that his cuts had sealed, it was as good a time as any.

Finding a place to bathe him? That was another problem all together.

* * *

 

After gently opening Malfoy's mouth and pouring the bone re-growing potion down his throat, Hermione stood up and took stock of what she had at her disposal.

The hammock. Well _that_ was going to make for an interesting sleeping situation. The cave was too small to set up more than one hammock anyway, even if she managed to transfigure one of her few items.

A cooking pot and a set of utensils.

One blanket.

A metal bucket she had used to collect edible things in the forest.

A pile of books.

Healing supplies and some potions ingredients.

A bar of everlasting soap.

Since she really didn't want to levitate Malfoy to the nearest stream, she would have to make do with what she had. With a sigh, she picked up the bucket, and began to transfigure it. First, she made it taller. The she made it wider. With a sweep of her arm, she elongated it until it was exactly what she wanted it to be: a slightly awkward looking metal bathtub. Another flick of her wand, and the bath was full of water. A last charm, and the water was hot.

Glancing anxiously over at Malfoy, she was relieved to see that he actually looked peaceful, lying on the blanket as though he was asleep. If it weren't for the dried blood caking his body and staining his hair, he would look almost angelic.

_This is weird. Completely fucking weird._

She cleared her throat, raised a shaky hand, and levitated him into the tub. He didn't flinch as he sunk into the water - _obviously not, Hermione, you knocked him out_ \- but she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding anyway. Part of her brain expected him to snap his eyes open, unleash a diatribe of angry insults, spit on her blood status and storm off. For all she knew, when he woke up, he might do just that.

Thank God he was wandless, at least.

For now though, she had the upper hand. She could enjoy the silence, studying his relaxed features as if for the first time. Malfoy always kept a sneer on his face at school, and it wasn't an exaggeration to say that he truly looked different without it. Hermione couldn't actually remember a time when she had seen him looking this... Peaceful. Beautiful, almost. He was a good-looking bloke; she didn't see a point in denying it. It's just that any appeal his face might have dissolved as soon as he opened his mouth. No wonder she hadn't noticed it until now.

_Best take advantage of the silence while it lasts, hey there Malfoy?_

Dipping her hands into the warm water, and lathering up the soap, she began to wash away the dirt and blood from his body. She avoided the area around his boxers rather nervously, not wanting to have to hide anything if he questioned her later. Not that she wanted to put her hands anywhere near his precious jewels - _hah!_ \- the very idea was laughable. He would be furious enough at the thought that she helped him, and he would no doubt figure out that she had cleaned him up. But a Mudblood touching his pride and joy? Not a chance. No way would she give him the ammunition. He already thought he was God's gift to women - there was no need to boost his ridiculous ego further.

Running her hands over his firm stomach, arms and back, she noticed that he had far more scars than she had expected. Some criss-crossed as though he had been whipped, some were mangled and wide, and some were thin gashes.

_What in Merlin's name did they do to him?_

The water was a murky red now, despite her attempts to keep it clear. Perhaps that was enough for one night, then. His skin was restored with a pale glow, marred only by faded bruises and angry red scars. His hair was back to that soft, silvery sheen she remembered so well, although it had grown out considerably since their school days. It hung around his collarbone now, shaggy and perfect. Hermione bit back her own annoyance - it wasn't fair that his hair looked that good after being drenched with blood only moments earlier. She knew she was projecting years of trouble with her own mane, but so be it.

She cast a quick cleaning spell on his clothes, being careful to mend a few gaping holes she found. Levitating him onto the blanket and drying him off, she gingerly dressed him again. He felt like a doll, so fragile and small. There were tremors in his arms and legs, an unconscious reaction to the bone growth potion, no doubt. She slipped on his signet ring to finish off the process, marveling at the detailed green "M" and the smooth gold band.

A short murmured charm and the hammock was ready for use. She placed Malfoy into it carefully, soaking in his quiet, calm features as if for the last time. She was off to find them some food - hopefully he would still be here when she got back. The sleeping situation would have to be dealt with later. Having not eaten for nearly two days now, getting something into her aching stomach was becoming a much more immediate concern than the possibility of sharing a hammock.

Leaning her face over his ear, she whispered: "Okay Malfoy, I did my part, now you can do yours. Get better, yeah?"

It was a plea falling on deaf ears, she knew, but she had to say it anyway. With one last look at the boy in the hammock, she turned and headed out into the night.

* * *

 

Hermione returned to the cave triumphant, with a wild turkey under her arm and a variety of wild greens she had scavenged. When it came to trapping food in the wild, she was eternally grateful for her wand. It was easier to kill and skin a turkey with a wand than it was to do it by hand. She shuddered at the thought of running around after a group of panicked wild birds with only her bare hands and a few sharp rocks at her disposal.

_Yes, much cleaner with magic._

Within a few minutes, she had set up a makeshift spit over a small fire, and skewered the bird the way Ron had taught her. The greens could go in the cooking pot with a bit of water. Her stomach growled angrily - the food couldn't cook fast enough, really.

After she had eaten, or savagely stuffed her face, if she was being honest, she wandered over to Malfoy's unconscious frame. The strangeness of the situation hit her again.

_I'm in a tiny cave with Draco Malfoy. I undressed him and gave him a bath. I healed him. And later on, I'm going to share a hammock with him and hope that he doesn't wake up and murder me._

With a shake of her head, she let out another long sigh, massaging her temples with her fingertips.

The transfigured bath caught her eye, and an idea took root in her mind. As long as Malfoy was unconscious, she might as well make the most of it. This had been the worst day in recent memory - separated from Harry and Ron, chased by snatchers, rescuing her childhood tormentor, getting elbow-deep in blood... A bath was definitely in order. She turned the tub slightly away from his sleeping face _just in case_ he happened to open his eyes, but she was fairly confident his body would keep him under for quite a bit longer. Injuries like this could cause someone to sleep for weeks, couldn't they? One could only hope.

A few flicks of her wand, and the bath was full of hot, clean water. Hermione hesitated before stripping off her clothes, deciding to levitate the blanket in front of her body while she dropped her dusty layers. Just to be safe. She may have lost some of her modesty hanging out with Harry and Ron, but Malfoy was a different story.

_That's an understatement!_

The water was steaming hot as she eased herself into the bath, wincing as it came into contact with her impressive collection of cuts and bruises. She had been so busy healing Malfoy that she hadn't bothered to look herself over. Not too bad - a wide cut on her calf, a series of scrapes on her arms, and more bruises than she could count. A chuckle escaped her lips when she realized she had no idea when she had acquired this new set of injuries.

_So it goes._

Her thoughts drifted back to Harry and Ron, and she let herself sink into some of her happier memories of them to ease her anxiety. Most of her favourite moments happened at Hogwarts, but she had a few from the Burrow as well. The past year and a half was intense, emotionally damaging and incredibly trying, but she was able to glean a handful of cheerful moments from their times in hiding anyway. With a satisfied smile, she closed her eyes and let the water soak into her skin, washing away months of hard-earned dirt. Eventually, she tucked her head under the surface of the water, and enjoyed the feeling of her hair being so weightless. It didn't happen often. Her mane reached the small of her back now, longer than she had ever kept it. She grabbed the soap and scrubbed herself down mercilessly.

It was a good hour later before she finally stepped out of the tub, checking Malfoy's sleeping face every few seconds while she dried off and dressed herself. The passage of time was a murky thing in this cave, when so little light could get in even on the brightest days. She guessed it was around 1 a.m., but it felt like she hadn't slept in days.

Hermione tiptoed over to the hammock, peering in at Malfoy's still body. It was either share the hammock or sleep on the cold, sandy ground, and frankly? There was no way in hell she was going to do that when there was an excellent chance he wouldn't wake up tonight. He was already mostly shifted to the right side of the hammock, lying on his back, his head tilted towards her.

_Okay, just crawl in on the left side and try not to crowd him._

It was much easier said than done, and she wrestled with the edge of the fabric for several minutes before tumbling not-so-gracefully into the belly of the bed, clunking into Malfoy's soft body. He didn't stir. Groaning with embarrassment, she turned herself carefully away from her bunkmate, and fell into a fitful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Malfoy was still unconscious when she woke up, which made her feel both relieved and nervous. What if he never woke up? What if her healing came too late, and he slipped into a coma? Maybe she shouldn't have been so quick to wish him a long, sleep-filled recovery.

Shaking the panicked thoughts out of her head, she slid out of the hammock and walked out to the sunny mouth of the cave, grabbing a few pieces of turkey as she went. Until Malfoy woke up and she was able to gage his mood, not to mention whether or not he planned to murder her, her days would be spent checking over his injuries and hunting for food.

It ended up being ten whole days before he stirred, and she had just about given up on him by the time it happened.

Hermione was walking back to the cave through the forest, frustrated that nothing she had tried seemed to wake up her sleeping nemesis. None of her trusty spells had made a difference, and neither had the potions she had painstakingly concocted out of her very limited ingredients. While ten days was not an unheard of amount of time for someone to sleep off the shock of a serious injury - or in this case, many injuries - she was still incredibly nervous that she had done something wrong in the healing process. What if she had made matters worse somehow? Malfoy or not, she had wanted to save him from harm, not render him comatose.

Wringing her hands, her mind slipped back to the lines she had rehearsed and then re-written since she came back to her cave.

_Hi Malfoy, don't panic, but I saved you from those Death Eaters, healed you, and now I don't know what to do with you._

No, no, that wasn't the one she settled on.

_Malfoy, before I explain this, I need to ask... Are you going to attack me in my sleep? Because, the thing is, we're sharing a really small hammock._

… _Your body heat is not as revolting as one might expect._

No, now she was getting confused.

_Damnit, I have no idea how to explain this._

She didn't appreciate being this nervous all the time. She was Hermione Granger for crying out loud, known for her bravery and level head! Being in a state of constant anxiety was grating on her nerves, as it was only getting worse the longer Malfoy stayed unconscious. She had started taking nightly baths to calm herself down, letting the hot water distract her briefly from her bizarre situation.

Thoughts swirled in her head as she distractedly made her way back into the cave, not bothering to look up at Malfoy's no doubt sleeping form. Instead, she kept her eyes on the ground, her brow furrowed in frustration, as she wandered over to her small beaded bag. Perhaps re-reading one of her healing books would help her settle her brain. Maybe she had missed something about reviving sleeping _gits_.

She pulled it out with a sigh, plopped down on the sandy ground, and began to read.

"Hello Granger," said a smooth voice from behind her.

Hermione's bravery and level head went out the window as she jumped out of her skin and screamed, much to her immediate embarrassment. She scrambled to her feet, book tumbling onto the ground, and narrowly missed tripping over her bag in the process. Her head snapped up in the direction of the hammock, shoulders shaking and chest heaving, one hand against the wall of the cave for support.

There was Draco Malfoy, eyes open, looking at her with a curious expression on his face. He had undisguised amusement in his eyes, propped up in the hammock on one elbow, looking every bit as though he was simply lounging off a particularly long day.

"Still clinging to your books, I see."

Hermione blinked.

_The beast has awoken._

"Cat got your tongue, Granger?"

Her heightened sense of self-preservation registered the fact that this was an extremely non-threatening pose for him to be in. She also noticed that his face was free of his trademark smirk, or worse, his trademark scowl. In fact, she could swear he looked slightly intrigued.

_Good. Maybe I can work with this._

"Merlin Malfoy, you nearly gave me a heart attack," she breathed, her heart still beating loudly in her ears.

They both stayed quiet for several moments, eyeing each other warily.

"H-how, how are you feeling?" she stammered cautiously.

"Like I was nearly beaten to death and somehow brought back to life," he said, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Ah."

Another long silence as they eyed each other.

"Are you going to stand there gawking all day, or are you going to explain why my corpse isn't rotting in the woods somewhere?" he snapped.

_There's the Malfoy I know and love to hate!_

"You mean, explain why I saved your life?" she responded, pulling herself up to her full height and cocking her eyebrow in return. Being patient with him was clearly going to be an exercise in control she wasn't sure she had, but she wasn't about to be walked on either.

"That would be satisfactory," he deadpanned. "And while you're at it, I'm curious as to why I seem to be bathed, not to mention sharing a bed with you... If you can call this a bed. Couldn't resist getting your hands all over my body, I suppose?"

He smirked, and she actually felt relieved. It was so much easier to deal with him when she knew where she stood. _This_ was familiar. Asinine, cheeky, snarky Draco Malfoy.

However, it was clear that he was goading her, and it wasn't going to work. She had spent a year and a half learning how to deal with Harry and Ron in close proximity, and she was proud to say that she no longer rose to bait the way she used to be famous for. Malfoy was extreme, yes, but she liked a challenge.

Sucking in a long breath and pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to form the words she had been mulling over since she arrived in this cave.

"Look, it's a bit of a long story... Would you like to sit outside while I tell you about it? You're probably dying to get out of that hammock, and it's finally sunny out."

_Try being snarky to THAT, Draco Malfoy. Just call me Hermione Granger, Miss Manners-in-the-face-of-adversity._

He looked predictably surprised at the offer, and even more surprised at her polite response. But his expression quickly turned stormy, and he muttered something under his breath.

"What was that, Malfoy?"

"I said I'm too weak to stand." He looked at her, cheeks flushing with frustration.

"Oh! I think I have something that might help." She rustled around in her bag, grabbing a small bottle of potion that she had brewed in an attempt to wake Malfoy up. It would give him strength and energy, albeit only for about an hour. It had been bloody hard to cook up with so few supplies and one lousy pot. She briefly wondered if a book called _Half-Arsed Magic in the Wilderness_ would sell. She could write the thing with her eyes closed.

Hermione walked up to him quietly, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. His clear grey eyes followed her every step, expression unchanging. She unstoppered the bottle and handed it over with a shrug.

"I brewed it to try and revive you, but it wasn't strong enough. It should give you the energy you need, at any rate."

He gulped it down quickly, and carefully swung his feet over the edge of the hammock, touching them to the ground. Seemingly satisfied, he pushed himself up into a standing position.

Hermione saw what was going to happen even before his legs gave out, and rushed to grab him as his body pitched forward. Catching him around his chest, she heaved his arm around her shoulder to stabilize him.

"Fuck!" he swore, leaning on her heavily. "Your potion sucks."

Years earlier, his comment would have sent her into a simmering rage, but for some reason, it seemed like the funniest thing she'd ever heard. A small giggle escaped her lips before she swallowed it down. She didn't want to make Malfoy angrier. Throwing a quick glance his way, she noticed with relief that he was only glaring at her suspiciously, not murderously.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "It should have worked, although it's a little hard to get potion supplies out here, as you can imagine. Come on, let's get you outside."

She could tell he was biting back an insult, and exhaled her relief when he simply said, "Lead the way, Granger."

 _That was almost pleasant,_ she thought as she helped him outside _. Please, please let this be an indication of potential civility._

* * *

 

Once he was seated at the sunny mouth of the cave, Hermione pushed some cooked pheasant into his hands, knowing he would need to start building up his strength immediately. He didn't resist, and Hermione quickly offered him some water while he was in an agreeable mood.

_So far, so good._

They sat in silence while he ate, Hermione mulling over possible explanations in her head, tapping her foot nervously. When he finished, he looked over at her and said, "Alright Granger. I'll admit that I have no idea what's going on. I'm supposed to be dead right now, or at least that was the plan."

Her eyebrows rose. Had he been _planning_ to die? That boy was a mystery, to be sure. She cleared her throat and began.

"To be honest Malfoy, I'm not really sure how much to tell you, since the last time I knew you, you were a Death Eater. I know you have the Mark, but I'm not sure where your loyalties lie. Obviously, that means I can't really trust you with the whole story at this point."

He grunted at this, but seemed to accept it.

"That doesn't mean I won't explain as much as I can," she continued. "What I can say is that I've been in hiding for a year and a half with Harry and Ron, which might not be news to you, since You-Know-Who has been looking for us since we disappeared."

"Yeah, I know you were in hiding with them... But that doesn't explain why you're here and they're not," he said. Their eyes met, and the unspoken question was implicit. _Where are your bodyguards, Granger?_

She bristled slightly, aching a bit at the thought of Harry and Ron.

"I'm getting to that. Almost two weeks ago, we got split up. My fault, actually, but I... I don't really want to think about it..." She cleared her throat to mask the fact that she was getting emotional. There was _no way_ she was breaking down in front of Malfoy. "Anyway, I ended up in a forest, looking for a place to hide, when I came across two Death Eaters beating the life out of you."

Draco looked away from her, and mumbled a quiet "I see."

"I actually didn't know it was you, because of your hood and all the... All the blood. But I heard them say that you had turned your back on You-Know-Who, and then they wouldn't stop hurting you... You were going to die. I had to do something. So I distracted them and stunned them, and then I brought us here."

His eyes were unfocused, staring off into the woods. What she wouldn't give to know what he was thinking.

"I still didn't know your identity at that point..."

"Would you have saved me if you did?" he said, sharply, his gaze now fixed at his feet.

"If I knew you weren't on You-Know-Who's side, yeah, I guess I would," she said, truthfully. "Nobody deserves that, Malfoy. God, it was terrible to see you in such a state."

His features relaxed slightly, and she continued.

"Anyway, I brought you to this cave, and thankfully I still had my healing supplies on me, as well as a few other things. Small miracle, that. Some of the supplies I made myself – they're much stronger than your standard healing potions... A bit of a hybrid between Madame Pomfrey's recipes and Snape's acceleration potion. I did the best I could with your injuries, although they were extensive... I've never seen that many broken bones before, not to mention the flesh wounds..."

He flinched.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I re-grew your bones and healed the cuts, and before you pester me about it, yes, I did have to bathe you. Couldn't even see your face for all the blood, not to mention the mess that was your skull. I left your boxers on, in case you feel like accusing me of anything. Then I just let you sleep, but after a few days I started to worry and tried to revive you. Obviously, I wasn't having much luck. It's been ten days now that you've been out. I was getting a bit panicked."

"Ten days? Fuck," he said.

"Yeah. I've just been hunting for food and trying to figure out how to contact Harry and Ron without giving them away. That, and I still have no idea what your story is, so I don't know what sort of danger you're in. Although I have a feeling the same people want both of us dead."

She glanced over at him, but he didn't meet her gaze, staring off into the woods again.

"You'd be right about that."

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"No."

She let out a sigh, looking out at the forest. "Okay, I figured as much. Can I at least surmise that you're not planning on turning me in to You-Know-Who? Not that I have any way of gaging your honesty, but if we're still on opposite sides of the War, we may as well say goodbye now. I've come too far to be handed over by you, of all people."

He glared at her now, a look she had gotten used to over the years. Then he sighed as though she had said something incredibly stupid.

"Granger, as much as it begrudges me to say this, you did save my life, and handing you over to the Death Eaters would be a piss poor show of thanks. I no longer support what they stand for, that much I can tell you."

She gave him a small smile. _That's what I was hoping to hear._

Clearing her throat, she decided to plough ahead while relations were bearable.

"Okay, well on that note, I think we should consider a truce."

"Excuse me?" said Draco, eyebrows raised.

"If you're not going back to You-Know-Who, I'm going to assume that you want to stay hidden. I also want to stay hidden. It would make sense to do that together. But if we're going to share a cave – _and a bed_ , she thought with a shudder – it would be really unproductive if we are always at each other's throats. We're not at Hogwarts anymore. We can move beyond how we… How we behaved back then. Or at least, I can."

She almost flinched waiting for a response.

_Please don't yell at me._

He looked at her for a minute, his expression unreadable.

"Okay Granger. I can see the logic behind that. I'll try to keep my charming and witty comments to myself." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

_Is he teasing me?_

_Is… Is that a smile on his face?_

Hermione shook her head quickly, trying not to read too much into his bizarre facial expressions. The Malfoy she knew in school didn't smile. He _smirked_. She looked back at his face, sporting what still looked suspiciously like a grin.

"Well, that's good," she said, clearing her throat and trying not to look alarmed at his charitable behaviour. "Look, I need to go find something for us to eat - that pheasant is the last of what we've got. Do you need anything before I go? I won't be gone long. There are protective wards around the cave, so you'll be okay if you stay close to it."

He shook his head. "I think I'll just sit here for a while, try to think everything over. This is a pretty odd situation to wake up to."

She nodded, stood up, and started to make her way down the hill.

"Hey Granger!" she heard him call when she was almost into the woods.

She looked back at him, curiously. Amazingly enough, he looked slightly nervous.

"Thanks for not leaving me there. I was... I was pretty sure I was going to die."

The smile broke out onto her face before she could stop it.

"Don't worry about it, Malfoy."

She felt a great deal lighter as she made her way into to the forest.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Little did Hermione know that Draco had actually woken up several times over the past ten days.

The first time was three days after the attack. It was only a groggy ten seconds of consciousness for Draco, during which he noted simply that he was alive, healed, and being kept somewhere warm and dark. His head dropped back into the hammock almost immediately, as a fleeting thought snaked through his mind.

_If I were still with the Death Eaters, I'd be dead. That means someone else found me. Who?_

Another two days later, his consciousness was prodded by the light sounds of splashing water. Slowly, carefully, he cracked open one eye to locate the source of the noise.

What he saw there nearly jolted him right out of the hammock.

Hermione Granger's naked back was facing him as she sat in a strange metal bathtub, completely unaware that she was being watched. He only knew it was her because of her telltale hair, which was even longer and more untamed than usual. She was languidly moving her hands through the water, seemingly happy to sit there and daydream. Every now and then, she would let out a deep sigh and mutter to herself.

_What. The. Hell._

_Granger?_

Hermione eventually grabbed a bar of soap and lathered up her arms, humming softly.

Draco was flummoxed.

_There is no way I was found by HER. Why would she help me?_

Without warning, she plunged her entire head under the surface of the water. He waited, watching with baited breath for her to come up for air, completely mesmerized by the sight.

_There is no way Granger found me. There is no way… Wasn't she in hiding with Potter and Weasley? None of this makes sense…_

He tried to remember what had happened after he was dragged from the mansion, after they had kicked him around in the dungeons and used the Cruciatus until he passed out. They took him to a forest, didn't they? They had been planning on finishing him off. At least, that's what they were threatening.

Was he still somewhere in that forest?

What did Granger do to the Death Eaters?

Why was he healed?

His thoughts were cut short as Hermione shot up once again, gasping for air. In turning to the side to put the soap down, her right breast was completely exposed to Draco's line of sight, dripping with steaming water.

_Holy shit._

Beads of water slid down her breast, gathering at her nipple and dripping off into the tub. Her profile showed that she had matured a bit since their school days – her cheekbones were more pronounced, her long eyelashes were heavy with water, and her pink lips came together in a beautiful pout. He could see her brows knit together in frustration as the soap kept slipping away from her fingers when she tried to put it on the ground. There was experience in her features now… The naïve and annoying girl he remembered seemed to have been replaced by someone else entirely.

Draco felt his heart lodge in his throat. She looked nothing like the Granger he hated in school. She had grown up. And Merlin, she was a _woman_ now.

It was a bloody confusing realization. Wasn't she supposed to be... Well... Plain or something?

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up his neck and clamped down on his brain, using every last reserve of energy he had not to gasp. He might be healed on the outside, but his injuries were reminding him that they weren't finished with him yet. Pain pulsed through his body. His eyesight swam, punctuated by flashing white lights, and Granger's profile began to disappear.

_Can't pass out now…. Can't pass out now…_

It was a futile attempt at bargaining, and he fell into a deep slumber again.

The third time he regained consciousness, he thought he had gone blind. It was only when he felt a pressure against his back, and the rhythmic feeling of someone breathing, that he put the pieces together.

_She's sleeping next to me? Impossible._

At that moment, Hermione started to shiver and twitch, murmuring in her sleep. She was obviously distressed, whimpering and whispering nonsensically.

Draco had no idea what to do.

The thought that Hermione Granger appeared to have rescued him, fixed him up and was sharing a hammock with him was simply beyond comprehension. As was the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as unremarkable and boring as he always imagined.

The memory of her in the bath came back to him with sudden clarity.

_Definitely not unremarkable._

Sure, she had started to grow into herself over the years, and Draco knew several fellow Slytherins who had been nursing crushes on her after her appearance at the Yule Ball… But he didn't realize she had been hiding THAT under her school clothes.

_If this is the universe's way of making me feel like shit for how I've treated her, it's not going to work. Once a pathetic know-it-all, always a pathetic know-it-all. I have no patience for…_

Hermione started to cry in her sleep.

 _Aw, fuck_ was the last thing Draco thought before his head exploded with pain, and he passed out yet again.

* * *

 

A sharp laugh echoed through the cave, and Draco wiped the corners of his eyes with glee as Hermione huffed at him.

"You can't be serious. Granger, really? You did not just tell me that."

"I am serious! Why would I lie about that?" She was flustered and mildly annoyed, but to her surprise, quite enjoying the conversation nonetheless.

"But a time turner? To squeeze more class into your schedule? Merlin Granger, you are the only person in our world who would use such a rare device for such nerdy purposes."

Hermione laughed loudly, and Draco grinned in return.

At some point in the past few days, his constant heckling had gotten amusing instead of upsetting. Watching Draco Malfoy come out of his hostile shell was quickly becoming a favourite pastime of Hermione's. You never knew what you were going to uncover.

_I'm obviously spending too much time in this cave._

When Hermione returned from hunting that afternoon after Malfoy woke up, she found him calmly reading one of her healing books in the sunlight. He looked healthier already, the food acting quickly on his thin body, putting a bit of colour in his cheeks. He even gave her a shy smile when he saw that she had come back. The action, small as it was, made her feel strangely elated.

The following weeks were spent monitoring his recovery, and getting to know each other in a setting that was so very different from school. It took quite a bit of getting used to, but they were fast learners.

They were currently swapping stories about their adventures at Hogwarts, trying to fill the time after having read and re-read all their books more times than they would have liked. _Advanced Healing for Aurors_ lost its appeal rather quickly after the tenth read. Chatting about Hogwarts was much more fun, and Hermione had actually howled with laughter when she heard about the ridiculous mischief Draco used to get up to with Crabbe and Goyle. Who knew those two oafs could be so entertaining? She did feel a pang of pity for Mrs. Norris though…. It seems the poor cat had borne the brunt of many of their pranks.

In turn, she had told him a bit about her escapades with Harry and Ron, realizing quickly that he had never gotten the full story about anything they did, settling only for abbreviated school gossip. His eyes bugged out to hear some of the details of their mishaps over the years, and she noticed that he was continually impressed by her quick planning every time the trio found themselves in a tight spot. He actually _said_ he was impressed. She never thought she'd see the day. It was flattering to have Draco Malfoy of all people pay her a compliment without seeming to have an ulterior motive.

Flattering and weird.

So far they had stayed away from the more serious topics, so as not to rock the boat in their very careful and very tentative friendship. It was a bit of a ticking time bomb though, and they both knew it. Draco still had his temper, and Hermione was feeling fragile. They were both keeping enormous secrets from one another. It was a tenuous truce, but they were trying. _Merlin_ , were they trying.

"Hey, that time turner saved a man's life, not to mention the life of an innocent hippogriff..."

"Innocent? That thing nearly took off my arm!"

"Oh, Malfoy, don't be such a baby."

Draco snorted, taking another bite of the meat Hermione had cooked up for dinner. It never ceased to amaze him that Granger, _Hermione Granger_ , wandered off into the woods every day and came back with a dead animal under her arm. Not to mention the fact that she skewered the things with almost creepy ease.

It had been two weeks since he woke up, and although the conversation had been extremely stiff at first, they eventually found ways to communicate that didn't end in a screaming match. He was relieved, honestly, because being hostile to someone you shared a cave with was exhausting.

Turned out that Granger was actually rather pleasant to talk to. His pride took a bit of a severe beating when he realized it, but it was hard to deny, frankly, after he caught himself guffawing at one of her jokes. He didn't guffaw at _anything_. Malfoys don't guffaw.

Except, perhaps, at witty little Muggle-borns with a surprising penchant for trouble. He couldn't even refer to her as a Mudblood in his mind anymore, it had gotten that bad. The term made him cringe. _Him._

The nights were still tense, given that the hammock was not designed for two people, and they spent most of their time trying not to accidentally roll on top of each other. Hermione had grumbled once that the hammock was "shaped like a Goddamned bloody taco," and although Draco had no idea what this mysterious "taco" was, he appreciated the sentiment. The shape of the thing made for a very restless and uncomfortable sleep. It was exactly the same dance every night – they would both shuffle around awkwardly, ending up with their backs pressed against one another. They could feel each breath, each movement the other made.

As an interesting side effect, they were becoming extremely familiar with the sleeping habits of the other, and could now tell within a second if their bunkmate was slipping into a nightmare.

They both did that, and often.

Not that either of them did anything about it, mind you. While they were developing a good rapport with each other, it did not yet extend to comforting the other when the terrors of their past took over their dreams.

"I'm not a baby, thank you very much. I'll let that comment slide because you saved my life, and because I feel bad for you."

"Why do you feel bad for me?" she grinned, taking the bait.

"Because you were so starved to get your hands on a male body that you had to knock me out and bathe me..."

"What?" she gasped, feigning offence. "For your information, Malfoy, I have been on the run with two men for over a year and a half. I've seen more of the male body than I ever wanted to."

"Oh?" he said, suddenly quite interested in the conversation. "And was this always a platonic viewing? Or was it something more involved?"

Hermione froze with her hand halfway to her food, and turned bright red.

_I should have seen that coming a mile away. Retreat!_

"That's not important," she mumbled, wanting to get him off the topic as quickly as possible. Her relationship with Harry and Ron was complicated enough without Malfoy butting in.

Besides, she had been catching herself openly admiring Malfoy's muscular, lean body over the past few days, and she really didn't want to open the gates to discussing anything overtly romantic or sexual. It was hard enough to remember that he was a snarky git and bunkmate – nothing more. Loneliness was a dangerous thing to feel when he was nearby, and she was fighting it every chance she got. She wasn't sure yet if she was actually _winning_ that battle, but at least she was trying. So far she hadn't tried to spoon him at night or run her fingers through his soft hair.

 _So far_. Merlin, she did not want to continue that thought.

It didn't help that he had actually become rather charming when he took a minute to stop sneering.

"I see," he said, triumphantly. "So you're allowed to grill me about what I did to piss off the Dark Lord, and I'm not allowed to ask about your love life with the Demented Duo?"

"But that's not fair! What you did directly impacts your safety and mine, not that you ever talk about it. And please don't call them that... I don't even know if they're alive. Your nicknames aren't helping."

Her cheerful mood was deflating at record speed. This conversation needed to end, and now. She could already feel the emotion coursing through her veins, her breaths becoming panicky and her eyes welling up. She didn't want to remember the painful and awkward months she spent trying to figure out her feelings for Harry and Ron, and she didn't want Malfoy lording it over her, even if he had been surprisingly kind to her lately.

The truth was that Hermione was constantly, eternally terrified about the fate of her best friends, and she blamed herself for having lost them in the first place. What if they were in trouble? If they were, she had no way of knowing. No way of helping. It was her fault they were alone. Her fault if they were caught. Her fault if they died.

The guilt was eating her from the inside out.

What she needed to do was send them a carefully-worded patronus to ease their minds about her safety, but she was too scared to risk it. The possibility of them being exposed if her message arrived at the wrong time was too great. So she waited, biding her time until it seemed safe to contact them. It was torturous and nightmare-inducing, waking her up with a cold sweat several times a night. Draco, thankfully, had done a respectable job at pretending that he didn't notice her thrashing and crying against him. She, in turn, pretended she didn't hear him whimpering in his sleep.

It was all terribly awkward.

Draco picked up on her change in mood, but refused to drop it. He loved tormenting her, and it was easy enough to get her riled up. The flush of her cheeks when she was upset did something strange to him, as though his stomach was being flipped over on itself and back again. One look at her flashing eyes and pursed lips left him feeling exhilarated and short of breath. Twisted, perhaps, but true. She always cooled down fairly quickly anyway. It was justifiable, wasn't it? All in fun?

"So... Is that yes to a love life with your two bodyguards then?"

"Stop it, Malfoy."

He didn't notice her hands grabbing nervously at the hem of her shirt.

"I'm curious... Was it Potter, or Weasley?"

She visibly cringed.

"I don't want to talk about it. Please. I'm serious."

"I'm thinking Weasley, but only because it was glaringly obvious that he was in love with you..."

"I said stop it!" she screamed, suddenly. Her eyes were brimming with angry tears and her fists were clenched at her sides.

He paused, staring at her with a guarded expression. That was not the reaction he was expecting. As fun as it was to torment her, seeing her this distressed was surprisingly uncomfortable.

Slowly, his hands lifted up in a sign of surrender.

"Consider it dropped. Don't be so touchy, Granger."

Hermione wiped at her eyes angrily. "I'm going to hunt for food."

"Granger, it's already dark out…. Shouldn't you – "

"I'm leaving!" she snapped, stepping out into the black night without another word. In a fleeting moment, he saw her shoulders shaking and heard a muffled sob as she disappeared from his sight.

Draco felt strangely guilty about the whole exchange. He knew he had been pushing it, but Hermione's response was a little more than he had bargained for.

 _I guess that answers my question about her being involved with one of them_ , he thought, grumpily. For some reason, the thought of her with Potter or Weasley made him feel ill.

Resolving to apologize when she got back, he sat down at the mouth of the cave and forced the guilt away. She couldn't stay mad at him, right? She'd be back soon and things would go back to normal. No problem.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Draco was pacing the short length of the cave, officially worried out of his mind.

_She's been gone for three hours. What the hell is she doing… Hunting for manticores?_

He flinched at the thought.

While Hermione wouldn't purposefully put herself in danger, she had been upset when she left, and might not have been as aware as usual when looking for food. That kind of distraction could be deadly when the entire wizarding world was searching for you. Her defenses were down. Could she have gotten hurt? Even worse… Had she been found by Death Eaters? Her usual walks in the woods had only ever taken her an hour, at absolute maximum, because she never wanted him to be alone for too long. Three hours was entirely out of character for her, even if she was feeling vengeful.

He could feel the uneasiness grate on his mind like a sunburn – _Something is wrong_. _Something is wrong, and she's out there_.

Competing thoughts taunted him.

_And why do you care?_

A growl rumbled in his chest as he continued to pace, frantically running his hands through his shaggy hair.

_I'm wandless and alone. That's why I care._

Even then, it felt like an excuse.

_Are you sure that's the only reason?_

He fumed at his train of thought. This was not the time to delve into some murky emotional realm, it was the time for action. She was missing. She was _fucking missing_.

He longed for the familiar comfort of his wand now more than ever. Feeling helpless and being dependent on a Muggle-born witch were two things Draco Malfoy did not tolerate… Not that he had a choice. Hermione had been sensitive to his handicap, always making sure he had what he needed without having to ask, but not with enough trust to lend her wand to him.

_Can't exactly blame her._

It was pointless to deny it. He'd had this coming to him for years – if it wasn't so tragic, it would be funny. _Of course_ he would end up owing his life to the person he had tormented the most. He had built up such colossal distrust between them that it was a miracle she hadn't left him to bleed his life out after she saw his face. She would certainly have been justified.

_But she didn't. She's the sodding Gryffindor Princess, after all._

And even _that_ wasn't fair, he knew. As easy as it was for Draco to fall back on his favourite House stereotypes, and as much as Hermione was Gryffindor to the core, there was more to it than that.

She was, quite simply, a good person. Kindness and intelligence were two virtues he appreciated now that he was trapped in a cave with someone who had both attributes. There weren't many people he could tolerate in such a strange, claustrophobic situation. It was hilarious - _yes, painfully hilarious_ \- that _Granger_ happened to be the one to teach him this. Making sure he was fed, checking his injuries, scavenging for food to give him time to bathe - it was like she actually gave a shit that he was doing okay.

 _Nobody_ gave a shit about Draco Malfoy. He wasn't convinced his parents could tolerate him, let alone care in any meaningful way.

That, and she was a mean Healer. Not many witches could bring him back from the brink without formal training and a bag full of random healing supplies. If anyone could do it, Hermione could. The rabid jealousy he always felt in school over her talents was being replaced by grudging respect. He often found himself running his fingers along the lettering of the scar on his chest, in awe that he was still alive.

It would never fade, but it didn't kill him either. It was good to have a visual reminder, even if it was etched into his skin.

_What doesn't kill you..._

When they were cutting the word into his writhing body, he was sure he was going to die. It was an unavoidable part of his plan; escape was too unrealistic. He had come to terms with that. That plan was worth it.

He knew a beating was coming, a beating designed to kill, and he had been scared. They would stretch it out to make him beg for mercy – it was the way they did things, and they weren't going to change that for one of their own.

Not that he was theirs anymore.

Funny, but it was the bloody Golden Trio that had planted the seed of doubt in his mind in the first place. Hermione, in particular.

He had been walking behind them on his way into Potions class, before they had all dropped out of school, when life was only moderately less complicated. Although he wasn't trying to eavesdrop, Hermione's voice cut through the din as everyone found their seats. She was chatting with her sidekicks, unaware that Draco could hear her.

"Strange though, isn't it? All those people following a Dark Lord who preaches blood purity, but he himself is a half blood? Do you think they know?"

She was hushed by a paranoid Harry and Ron, and they continued their conversation in quiet tones.

Draco had heard, though. The information jolted him. Although he had heard whispers of Lord Voldemort's bloodline, no Death Eater who valued their lives would discuss it openly.

So it was true?

Was he really following a fraud? His parents too? Were they buying into an ideology that didn't deserve the attention to begin with?

He tried to ignore it, but her words wriggled around in his brain over the months and years that followed, growing in intensity. The doubt burrowed under his skin like a grain of sand, gaining strength until only his Occlumancy skills saved him from being outed for his constant and overwhelming uncertainty. Death Eaters weren't supposed to spend all their time questioning the Dark Lord. They were supposed to be sheep – following their leader with unquestioning faith. Draco knew he was in trouble. He kept his concerns to himself, trying as best he could not to show his wavering loyalty.

His doubt was giving him a conscience, though, and he didn't join the raids with the zeal he always assumed he would. Why would he kill on command for a fraudulent leader? It seemed like a poor use of his talents. He deeply resented his parents for getting into something that was impossible to back out of unscathed. Or alive, for that matter. If they noticed his carefully-masked panic, they didn't show it, and he didn't raise the issue with them for fear of exposure. Yes, they may be his parents, but would they shelter him from the wrath of the Dark Lord? Even if they wanted to, they wouldn't be able to. It was the painful truth. He was alone in this.

He began to volunteer his services on the tactical end of things, helping research and plan attacks instead of being one of the brutes who carried them out. Still, his lack of enthusiasm was being noticed, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his defenses would slip and expose him. He would be shown no mercy, he knew. His parents would probably be killed too, if they didn't finish him off themselves.

It was a lost cause, and time was running out. Then, completely accidentally, Draco overheard something miraculous. A way to weaken the Dark Lord significantly. A way that very few had the ability to exploit. It was an opportunity, and he took it.

Hence the plan, the almost flawless execution, and his eventual exposure, which was supposed to end in his death.

Until he was rescued, of course, thankfully and most unexpectedly.

That thought brought him back to the present like a cold wind.

_She rescued me, of all people, and now she's out there, needing my help._

That was enough for him. If all he had left in the world was the tentative friendship of a Muggle-born witch, he wasn't going to let her get hurt, not on his watch. Certainly not because he was careless enough to upset her and cause her to storm off into the woods in a volatile mood.

Draco stepped out of the warmth of the cave and into the night, hoping he wasn't too late.

Wand or not, he had to find her.

* * *

 

It was a bad night to be lost in the woods.

The unusual silence of his surroundings was an immediate indication to Draco that his suspicions had been right. It was as though the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting for disaster. His own breaths were shallow and nervous - he felt completely exposed here.

_Where is she? Come on Granger... Please be nearby..._

He didn't want to think of what would happen if she had been taken away somewhere. There would be no chance of him finding her then, wandless or not. They would be both as good as dead. She was the only one who knew what he had been through... And they did have a sort of tenuous trust between them, didn't they? Nobody else would think twice before tossing a swift _Avada_ his way. She was the only one to give him a chance, whether or not he deserved it.

It occurred to him then than in the short amount of time they had spent together in the cave, he came to trust her implicitly. Now _that_ was a thought he had trouble wrapping his mind around.

Draco walked on, trying not to make too much noise as the brush crunched underfoot. What he wouldn't give for a silencing charm right now! He was practically announcing his intentions with his clumsy feet, plodding along in the dark.

_I don't know how Muggles do it. Wandering around in the pitch black without a wand... Ridiculous._

At least an hour had gone by since he left the cave, hoping to find Hermione. An hour of wandering aimlessly, getting deeper and deeper into the woods, probably quite lost, too far from the protection of the hammock and the comfort of the bath. He could think of half a dozen spells that would have tracked her, but of course, his wand was probably in the hands of some Death Eater right now. What was he even _doing_ out here? She could be anywhere by now. He replayed their argument in his head, cursing himself for not noticing how upset she was getting. He should have _known_. The girl wore her emotions on her sleeve, after all.

His foot made contact with something sticky.

A strangled sound escaped his throat at what he saw.

A man lay on the ground in front of him, large gashes on his legs and face oozing blood all over his filthy trench coat. _Definitely a snatcher._

Hermione lay five feet from him, her shirt torn open, with a large cut on her head. He couldn't tell if she was breathing. Her long, wavy hair had come undone and was fanned out around her face.

"No... Granger, no..."

Panic rose in Draco's throat as he ran to her side, and his stomach twisted as though it was being wrung out like a rag. Dropping to his knees, he gently turned her face towards his. The cut was deep, and she would need help immediately. As for the rest of her...

The panic was replaced very suddenly by seething anger. He could see bloody gashes across her chest as though the snatcher had tried to tear off her shirt. The fabric was ripped open, and her bra was disheveled, but it still managed to cover her.

_Maybe she was able to fight him off. I swear to Merlin, if he touched her in any way..._

His gaze snapped back to the man on the ground.

_I'm going to fucking kill him._

Fury coursed through him as he looked around for a wand. Protective instincts flared inside of him like bombs, and he couldn't see anything but the wall of red that demanded he get revenge for what happened to Hermione. It was a driving force that he didn't understand, but that he was helpless to ignore. He should have been there for her after everything she had done for him… Instead, he purposefully pissed her off and let her go off into the night. It was the behaviour of a schoolboy, and it was shameful.

Well, now he would make that snatcher regret the day he hurt her. He would make him _beg_. Too little too late perhaps, but she had been attacked and someone had to pay.

"It's going to be okay, Granger. I'm going to take care of you, but first I have to take care of this piece of shit..."

Hermione stirred, and Draco froze, hope thumping in his chest. A tiny groan escaped her lips.

"Malfoy?" she murmured.

"It's me, I'm here," he whispered, dropping back down beside her with his face next to hers.

"Can't kill him," she whispered back.

"What?" he said, angrily. "After what he did to you? Do you know how worried I've been?"

"He's a scout," she said, her eyes opening slowly, locking with his, focusing with some effort. He couldn't believe the relief he felt being able to look in her eyes again. "If he doesn't make it back, they'll know someone is hiding here."

Draco exhaled slowly. Of course that made sense. He could have made things so much worse if he had followed through. _I am such an idiot._

"Can you perform memory charms?" she asked him. Her breath was laboured, and it was freaking him out. Her pointed question, however, was crystal clear.

"Yes." His eyes were still locked to hers; he seemed unable to pry them away. Everything was okay when she looked at his like that. If he could bottle that look, he'd never feel unsure again. It was like a balm for his senses.

"Use my wand."

She pressed her wand against his hand, and when he didn't respond immediately, she gave him a weak smile.

"It's okay... You know what to do."

Soaking in her eyes for another few seconds, Draco slowly took the wand from her and stood up, turning towards the snatcher. He knew exactly what spells to use, and it only took a minute to plant an extra false memory in the man's mind before Draco banished him to the outskirts of a wizarding village in the south of the country - far far away from them. It felt good, _so good_ to use magic again.

Draco pocketed the man's wand with a grim smile. He would get Hermione to check it for any tracking spells before using it, but it would make his life much easier if he had a wand around. For now, hers would do.

"There. When he wakes, he'll think he saw nothing of interest here, and then when he moved on to another location, he was mugged."

"Thank you," she breathed. Her voice was shaky, and Draco spun around to see her drifting out of consciousness.

"Granger? You need to stay awake. We're going back to the cave. You're going to be okay... Just... Just stay with me..."

He scooped her up into his arms and pictured their cave as clearly as he could in his mind. With a CRACK, they were gone from the woods.

 


	6. Chapter 6

It took him much longer than it should have to heal Hermione, his hands were shaking so badly.

The snatcher had really done a number on her head, but he managed to seal it after several tries. The deep gash along her hairline was closed, but it the area was still dangerously red. She kept slipping in and out of consciousness, and every time she slipped out, he would revive her and chatter about anything that came to mind to keep her awake. Quidditch, Hogwarts, even arithmancy - nothing was off bounds as long as her eyes were open. It was a fight for her to stay conscious, he could tell. She was completely limp in his arms.

"Okay Granger, the cut on your head should heal now. I'll just move on to..."

The gashes on her chest. They were irritated and bleeding. In need of healing cream. And on her chest.

_She bloody well gave you a bath, and you can't even heal her chest? Coward._

"Uh..."

He picked up the cream and looked at it, then stole another glance her chest. Now that he was really looking, he could see that the scrapes continued to travel underneath the cover of her bra. Blood had soaked through the cotton. It didn't look good.

He gingerly scooped up some cream and started dabbing it on the most visible injuries, keeping away from her breasts as much as possible. Not that he didn't want to touch them - quite the opposite. Suddenly, he felt a desperate need to. Those breasts had been haunting his memories ever since he caught a glimpse several weeks ago, and it had taken all of his concentration not to let Hermione catch him gazing at her chest longingly. He didn't trust himself to heal her there yet. His body would give him away within seconds. Besides, they were just barely getting used to the idea of being friends. He wasn't going to push his disastrous luck.

Maybe the gashes under her bra would just heal by themselves...

Hermione's voice cut through his anxious internal dialogue.

"Draco, I swear to God, just heal me. I don't give two shits where your hands go right now, as long as the pain stops." She paused, and then said softly, "I'm too weak to do it myself. Please. Don't make this harder for me."

If that's what she wanted, then he had better do a proper job of it. There would be no letting her down if she trusted him to do this. At least Draco had been passed out when she bathed him - here, she would be fully awake while he touched her.

The very idea was making him hard, and he felt like a bastard for it.

Without another word, he slid his slippery fingers under the fabric of her bra, following the line of the deepest scrape. His fingers grazed her nipple and his groin jumped to attention. She either didn't notice the touch, or she genuinely didn't care. He felt a niggling annoyance that she wasn't affected by his fingers, although his rational mind knew that she was suffering from a head injury and probably wouldn't notice if a hippogriff ran through the cave.

He dipped his hand back into the pot of cream, scooping out a generous amount. Bringing both hands together, he smoothed an even layer of cream over each digit before dropping his hands back down to her chest. This time, he let each hand slide under the fabric on either side, and let his full palm rub each breast slowly. It was highly erotic, and he could feel a flush of colour traveling up his cheeks. _God, she is so soft. She feels amazing._ His breath slowed, but he didn't stop massaging her until he was satisfied he had covered every gash.

His length start to pulse with arousal, and he ignored it determinedly. Relief could come later. Alone. Outside the cave. Right now, he needed to make sure Hermione was properly healed.

She had kept very still while he touched her, and when she heard him screw the cap back on the pot of cream, her shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Thank you," she said. She was blushing slightly, not meeting his eyes, but she wasn't mortified as he might have expected her to be. _Must be the head injury. The Granger I know is a total prude._

He found he couldn't speak, and cleared his throat non-committaly instead.

After a moment of hesitation, he transfigured her clothes into soft cotton shorts and a tank top, knowing that it would be a great deal more comfortable than her dirty jeans. He lifted her from the ground carefully, and carried her to the hammock. She was looking at him with a searching expression as he placed her into the fabric, as though she was working out a puzzle.

"Will you be okay for one minute? I just need a breath of fresh air. I'll be fast."

She nodded.

Once outside, Draco found leaned against a particularly well-hidden crevice in the rock face, undid his pants, and stroked himself desperately. He let out a tortured groan as he remembered the feeling of her breasts in his hands, the soft peak of her nipples, and the slippery layer of cream as he rubbed her.

_Merlin, she felt so good._

He knew he wouldn't last long in this state, and he picked up speed as he reached a frantic climax, spilling himself over the forest floor with a shuddering groan.

He only gave himself a moment to catch his breath before pulling himself together and sprinting back inside. It was stupid of him to have left her alone for _that_ , no matter how much he needed it. What if she was unconscious? With a head wound that serious, he needed to keep her awake for quite a while yet.

To his relief, she was still awake when he came back. Guilt crawled over him then, certain that she knew what he was up to outside. She trusted him to heal her, and he couldn't even keep it platonic. Far from it - even now he was noticing how pretty she looked in the dim light of the cave.

She also looked exhausted.

"You know I have to keep you awake for a while, right Granger? Can't have you falling asleep on me and then not waking up." He meant to tease, but the danger was all too real. He was terrified to lose her, and he was completely confused by that fact.

_What the hell is happening to my brain?_

She gave him a warm smile. "I'm trying to stay awake, but I can barely hold my eyes open."

Without hesitation, he walked over to the hammock, crawled in next to her, propped himself up on his elbow. He ignored the surprised look on her face. "Well then I'm going to tell you stories until I pass out. It would be silly for me to rescue you and then not follow through, wouldn't you say?"

She gazed at him for another long moment - _still trying to puzzle me out, I see_ – and then nodded.

In the end, he was able to talk for three hours before he drifted off, telling every wizarding children's story he could think of and then throwing in some astronomy historiography for good measure. That was before he started explaining his family tree, which knocked off at least an hour and a half straight through. When they finally fell asleep, his face was nuzzled into Hermione's neck, her delicate hand on his arm.

They both stirred a few hours later when a jarring crack of thunder echoed through the cave, followed quickly by the whipping sound of hard rain. Hermione jumped nervously, still feeling fragile, and Draco instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Her only response was to press her cheek against his shoulder as they both began to drift back to sleep. He tried to ignore the ripple of happiness her subtle actions gave him, but there was no point. It just felt so good to be needed by someone – it was an alien sensation that he couldn't get enough of.

"Draco?" he heard her mumble into his skin.

"Hm?"

"Why did you save me? You could have taken a wand and left me there."

_Huh. That hadn't occurred to him at all._

_Why didn't that occur to him?_

He thought a minute before responding.

In truth, his mental slide from hating Hermione to being fiercely protective of her was confusing and murky, and it had happened so quickly. Those brief moments of consciousness where he was able to piece together his own rescue had changed him somehow... Because he never considered that he would survive, now that he was here, he felt like he had been given a second chance.

That, and the fact that he felt undeniably embarrassed about who rescued him. He had behaved so terribly over the years, and yet she still chose to help. It just made their childhood spats seem juvenile and shallow - if she could put all that aside, so could he. While he did like to spar with the sharp-tongued witch, there was no real bite behind his words anymore.

Besides, he was made of stronger stock now. He had chosen to defy the Dark Lord, accepting his own death as the outcome. It astounded him that he had ever found the courage to follow through, having always considered himself to be a bit of a coward, but the knowledge of his own actions gave him a sense of purpose.

He could pull off the unthinkable, protected by the fact that he was always underestimated. A blessing in disguise, that.

_I should really tell her about what I did. She needs to know. She might even be able to help. She doesn't underestimate me._

He resolved to tell her the next day.

But to answer her question... There was really only one possible response.

"Believe it or not Granger, you're all I've got left."

He felt a tear slide down his arm as her wet cheek pressed into him. She swallowed heavily.

There was that feeling again. She actually gave a shit about him. She needed him.

If this is what it felt like to be needed, he never wanted to go without again.

"Can you forgive me? For how I used to be?"

She didn't even hesitate. "Of course I can."

They slowly fell back asleep, tangled together in the belly of the hammock.

* * *

 

Hermione woke up with Draco's arms around her, her face pressed against his chest, the soft fabric of his t-shirt making patterns on her cheek. He smelled like pine and clean skin, and it was completely intoxicating. She took a few deep breaths.

Her leg had somehow snaked in between his, and their bare feet were pressed together. They were completely intertwined. She didn't move a muscle, savouring the feeling of their breathing in tandem. Butterflies jumped around her stomach as she let their situation sink in.

So much had happened in the past twelve hours.

_He saved me._

The idea seemed ludicrous. Truce or not, friendship or not, _whatever they had_ , this was Draco Malfoy. He was not one to wander around a dark forest, wandless at that, to find a Muggle-born witch.

_He didn't run away._

A large part of her had always assumed that if he had a wand, he'd be as far from her as he could get. Why would anyone choose to stay trapped in a cave with their childhood enemy? Sure, _she_ had ended up with that bizarre fate, but she assumed Draco hated to feel dependent on anyone and would probably love to be free of her company.

Maybe she had guessed wrong.

_He healed me._

Oh dear. She had been a bit delirious when she ordered him to fix up her chest. Perhaps the head injury had made her unusually bold. The memory of his fingers on her breasts caused her to flush with embarrassment, and she felt a deep pull of pleasure in between her legs.

_I can't believe I did that. I can't believe he went along with it!_

But he had been a gentleman. No unnecessary touching, no crass jokes, just a thorough - _very thorough, come to think of it_ \- healing massage. She wasn't in any pain at the moment, and considering that she had looked as though she walked through a sword fight, that was saying something.

That snatcher had been one hell of a surprise. So much for constant vigilance - Hermione had been too distraught and lost in her own thoughts to notice him lurking in the shadows of the forest. How stupid of her.

Thank God she still had her reflexes. The flicker of movement he made when he reached for his wand gave her a split second to throw up a shield charm and deflect a body bind curse. She'd be raped and left for dead right now if it wasn't for that quick maneuver. The snatcher's intentions were sickeningly clear - he had muttered something about wanting some "fresh meat" during the attack, his smug voice slithering over the sound of wand fire and crackling singed wood.

After she blocked his curse, he threw everything he had her way. Dark spells screamed through the night, bouncing off the trees and scaring away any wildlife in the area. Hermione managed to duck or block most of them, scrambling for even footing in the rocky clearing. She sent some of her worst back at him, including a modified sectumsempra that met its target, praise Merlin. The notion that she should stick to tame, non-violent spells went out the window ages ago, and she felt no regret when she had to resort to something darker. Sometimes those spells gave her the element of surprise, which in turn made her more likely to survive. Easy decision.

Then her luck ran out.

As he was collapsing under the damage of her spell, she was hit in the head with a curse that shook her entire body and sent her spiraling into darkness. She struggled to stay conscious, and was horrified to see that he was dragging himself towards her. With his wand raised, he hit her in the chest with a spell that tore open her shirt, as well as most of her torso. Her screams echoed through the forest, and she barely even registered that they were hers. The snatcher's maniacal grin shone gruesomely in the darkness, and she knew that if she didn't stop him now, she'd never get away with her life. It took every last drop of strength she had to shoot the final hex - it stunned him with so much force that he was thrown back several feet from her.

The next thing she knew, Draco was hovering over her with a very panicked and a very angry look on his face. She saw the murderous glint in his eye, and quickly dissuaded him from acting on it... Someone was waiting for that man to report back, and they would be in far worse trouble if he wasn't able to do so. Thankfully, he listened.

_Now I'm here, completely wrapped up in his arms._

_This feels so nice._

It occurred to her then that this concerned, protective version of Draco was really bloody attractive. She was so used to being the one to do the protecting, minus the occasional big brother style fit from Harry or Ron, that it felt strange to be doted on like Draco had done. Strange, but wonderful. This was a side of him she never thought existed. Kind and caring. Who would have guessed?

He stirred then, moaning lightly in his sleep, and she felt his arms wrap around her even more tightly. A shudder of pleasure swept through her and she wondered if maybe she had taken leave of her senses.

No, her senses were functioning beautifully. If anything, they were amplified. Fuck, it felt good.

Hermione returned the gesture, figuring he wouldn't notice in his sleep, tightening her arms gently around his torso and bringing her cheek to rest in the crook of his neck.

Then she felt his breath hitch.

_Ah, not so asleep after all. Shit._

There was a moment of awkwardness where they both realized that the other was awake, and therefore conscious of the fact that they were holding each other like it was the end of the world. Was this the time to move away? Should they get up and pretend like they were just caught in a moment of weakness, ready to revert to their awful back-to-back nighttime routine?

Hermione realized she didn't want that at all. And she suspected, as much as he might try to deny it, that Draco didn't want that either.

_Fuck this. Might as well push my luck._

She leaned in a bit, and very gently kissed his neck, just underneath his ear. Her breath was held, anxiously wondering what his response might be. If it made things horribly uncomfortable, well, at least she had followed her instincts. Her instincts wanted her to be _closer, closer, closer,_ and she wasn't interested in fighting them.

His breathing sped up, just enough for her to notice. She could feel his pulse beating strongly against his skin. Her own heart started to hammer against her ribs and she wondered if he could feel it.

Then he buried his face in her hair and let out a contented sigh.

All the tension melted out of her.

"I'd like to tell you about what I did to… To You-Know-Who," he murmured against her temple.

"Okay," she murmured back, thrilled with his reaction. "After we get up."

She felt his lips rise into a smile against her head, and he nodded lightly before falling quiet again.

They didn't get out of the hammock for another hour, cradling each other in the silence of the cave.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

It was Draco who eventually made the move to get up.

"I have to pee," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I've been trying to ignore it, but I've really got to do something about it now."

She chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess that's an acceptable reason to leave my dazzling company…" she teased.

"Well, I'll be back before you know it," he scoffed with a good-humoured smile. "I should figure out something for us to eat anyway. You're probably famished."

"I am a little hungry…" she admitted.

"It's settled then. I'll find us some food. But for now, nature calls."

He slowly pulled out of her embrace, and Hermione noticed that he seemed as reluctant to leave the hammock as she felt about his departure. The rush of cold air where his body used to be felt woefully inadequate… All she really wanted his arms right back where they were. With her nod of consent, he took her wand with him. They still hadn't checked the other one for tracking charms, and there was no way they were going to take a chance until they were sure.

He returned ten minutes later, frowning.

"How on earth do you catch those silly turkeys? I think they were actually ducking my spells, the bastards."

Hermione snorted in amusement, and lifted herself out of the hammock, grabbing her wand back with a grin. She quickly transfigured her clothes back to her jeans and a t-shirt.

"Allow me to show you how it's done, my dear Malfoy."

Sure enough, she found and killed a bird within five minutes, having perfected the art of hunting for her food ages ago. As she knelt down to skewer it, she caught Draco looking at her.

"It's a bit freaky how well you do that," he remarked, clearly amused.

"What? You didn't think that a bookworm could figure out how to hunt?" she smirked. "There are lots of books about hunting, you know…"

"Hah, I could just see you reading about murdering helpless chickens, studying the diagrams to perfect your technique…"

"Pfft, whatever. You eat what I catch, and you like it."

"Very true."

He continued looking at her for a while as she set the bird up over the fire and cleaned her hands off.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Hermione," he said, quietly.

She looked up at him, surprised. His playful smile was gone, replaced by a look of intense worry.

"I thought... I thought maybe I had lost you." The guilt in his eyes was overwhelming.

"I think you would have lost me had you not rescued me when you did," she said, standing up and walking towards him, wanting desperately to ease his conscience. "I can't thank you enough. Honestly."

Snaking her arms around his waist, she pulled him into a deep hug, nestling her head under his chin.

_If we can hold each other in the hammock, surely I can hug him. He can't pretend to be frigid around me anymore._

"I wasn't sure I was going to make it out of there," she whispered against his neck.

He returned the hug, and then ran his hands through her hair, sighing deeply.

"He didn't… Touch you, did he? Because I could probably still track him down and feed him his own –"

"Draco, I'm fine. He tried, but he didn't succeed."

 _Besides, you're the one who touched me… And I liked it_ , she thought silently.

"Thank Merlin for that," he said. "He was in a right state. I'm very impressed."

She grinned.

"He probably wasn't expecting me to put up such a fight," she shrugged. "The fact that people constantly underestimate me in battle sometimes works in my favour."

That reminded Draco of his pact the night before, and he decided not to wait any longer. He owed her an explanation.

"Listen…. About what I did… I destroyed a horcrux," he said, the words slipping out before he could think it through.

Hermione gasped, pulling away enough to look him in the face.

"What?"

He nodded.

"That's why you found me the way you did. I changed my mind about the Dark Lord - I had been thinking about it for years, actually. I wanted out. Long story, but I knew they would never let me go, so I decided it would be better to go out with a purpose than any other way..."

"Draco, are you serious? I mean, you really destroyed a horcrux? And... You had planned to die? I mean, horcruxes are nearly impossible to - "

"To destroy? Fuck, tell me about it. I have the arrogance of the Death Eaters to thank for giving me the means, actually. I overheard Aunt Bella talking to Rodolphus about the horcrux one night, totally by accident. They had no idea I was listening. It was the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. They were planning on hiding it in the mansion before moving it elsewhere, and by some insane chance, I discovered a way to destroy it, providing I was able to steal it. Thankfully the Malfoy library has some nasty books on dark magic - that's how I started to make my plan."

Hermione was dumbfounded. She couldn't believe her ears. Draco continued talking, absent-mindedly tracing circles on her back as he spoke. Did he know about her mission? Or was this some serendipitous meeting of the minds?

"As for the means... The Death Eaters have been trying to alter some spells to work to their advantage, and containing fiendfire was one of them. It was still experimental, but there was a chamber where the fiendfire was being kept - they would say an incantation to stop the flames, drop in whatever they needed destroyed, and close it up. Mostly it was used for... Well... Bodies."

He shuddered at the memory.

"One of the books said fiendfire could destroy horcruxes, and I couldn't believe my luck! I spied on them for weeks to make sure I knew the spell, and when I stole the cup, it was dropped in and destroyed. Only Bella and Rodolphus knew how to contain the fiendfire, so they figured the chamber would still be safe to keep in the manor. They had no idea one of their own would learn the spell and use it against them. In fact, they still think I've only stolen it... They don't know it's gone for good. They planned to torture the supposed location of the horcrux out of me and then kill me, but you stopped Rodolphus and Rowle before they could finish me off." He paused to smile at her. "I didn't tell them anything either; one of the benefits of being taught Occlumency since I was a kid."

He brushed a lock of hair away from her face, so gently she nearly shivered. The action shook her out of her reverie. She needed to decide! Should she just come right out and tell Draco about her mission with Harry and Ron? Not even the Order knew all the details of the horcruxes, only bits and pieces. But he was their ally now, wasn't he? He was in the same boat, stuck in the same creek without a paddle...

"You know about the horcruxes, I assume?" Draco continued, unperturbed by her vacant expression. "I see you didn't need an explanation about how the Dark Lord is using them." He felt irrationally proud at how quickly she always caught onto things. Funny that he used to hate that about her. "I don't know how many there are, but I figured the fewer, the better."

Hermione exhaled. Her gut told her to trust him; after all, she could apparently trust him with her life.

_Here goes._

"There are six horcruxes," she said quietly. "We've destroyed four of them, but if the goblet is gone..."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his.

"Merlin Draco, there's only one left!"

It was Draco's turn to be shocked.

"Wait... Are you telling me that you three have been hunting for horcruxes this whole time? Fuck Hermione, that's bloody dangerous! Does anyone else know you're doing this?"

She shook her head, brow furrowed in thought.

"I need to tell Harry and Ron. This changes everything. We know what the last horcrux is... That means we can start planning an end to all this."

"You mean a final battle? And how do you know what the last horcrux is?"

"A clue from Dumbledore," she said, meeting his eyes again, excitement coursing through her veins. "Draco, the last horcrux is Nagini."

Draco sucked in a sharp breath. "Well shit. I always hated that bloody snake. If I had only known... Maybe I could have done something while I was there..."

"You had no way of knowing, and Merlin, you've done so much. Do you have any idea how helpful this is? We hadn't the faintest clue how to get to the cup, and now it's destroyed."

Her eyes were shining with happy tears and she was smiling widely at him.

"You're amazing, Draco. I'm honestly…. I'm…. I'm flummoxed!"

He felt a large crack rupture the wall around his heart, and he swallowed heavily. How did she manage to do that? How did she make him feel this strange mixture of euphoria and terror?

"Look, I've been putting off sending a patronus to Harry and Ron because I don't want it to arrive at a time when they might be exposed... But I think I'm going to have to take a chance. They need to know this, and quickly. I'll just try to word it without giving too much away."

"You can send a patronus? And you've been destroying horcruxes for the past couple of years? Is there anything you can't do?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she chided with a shy smile, pulling away from him and walking to the mouth of the cave.

"I certainly hope that's not true," he said, following with a smirk. "That won't leave me with much to say to you."

"Oh now, you've always seemed quite happy to harass me instead of flatter me..."

"Hmm. It's funny how that loses its appeal after a while. I've turned a new leaf, can't you tell?"

"I certainly can." _No really, Draco, I can._

He knew they were teasing each other, but he was deadly serious too. He wanted to sing her praises to anyone who would listen. She was a horcrux hunter? It was an insane idea, but he didn't doubt it for a second. Hermione _bloody_ Granger was skillfully flipping his life on its head.

She stopped at the mouth of the cave, a look of determination on her face. Glancing over at Draco, she shot him a nervous grin and said, "I sure hope this works."

Her otter patronus shot silently out of her wand, swimming away from them with her message in its keep. Draco didn't know which message she chose, but he thought the patronus was one of the most beautiful pieces of magic he'd ever seen.

Hermione watched the otter swim away from them, its magic seeking out her friends to bring them the words she hoped they would understand:

_I'm safe, in the place I liked best_

_The cup is destroyed_

_A ferret is helping us_

* * *

 

With the patronus gone, they both went back inside the cave to eat.

It was still drizzling rain from the previous night's storm, and the light of the fire was far more welcoming than the damp forest air. Hermione sat down on the cave floor with a happy sigh, still turning over the news of the horcrux in her mind. They were so much closer to their goal, and they had Draco Malfoy to thank for it. How brilliantly bizarre.

Draco portioned up the food and made sure Hermione ate her fill. While it was easy to bask in the comfortable bond they seemed to have formed overnight, he still couldn't get the images of her bloody, unconscious body out of his mind. He would make sure she had a full recovery if it killed him.

"Have some more," he said, waving a drumstick at her menacingly. "You need your strength if you're going to keep trying to save the world, little Gryffindor."

"I'm eating, I'm eating! Since when did you become such a mother hen?" she laughed. "Besides, the food lasts way longer here. With Harry and Ron, we'd need to hunt constantly. Bloody bottomless pits, they were."

Her expression became troubled then, and she looked down at the ground.

"Hey... Draco? I could... I could tell you why I got upset when you were teasing me about them, if you'd like."

He grimaced, wishing he had never brought it up in the first place.

Of course he had been curious as hell about her relationship with Potter and Weasley... Even in school there were rumours that the Golden Trio was held together by more than just friendship. But now? After last night? Merlin, he went from feeling hostile towards Hermione to feeling like he would take on a fleet of dragons to make sure she was safe. The idea that she might be involved with either of them made him feel a combination of nausea and fury. Not that he had any real claim on her - he didn't know how to label their new, affectionate friendship - but he didn't like the idea of anyone else being in the way. Even if the two people in the way were her best friends, with one being the potential saviour of the wizarding world.

 _Bollocks_ , there wasn't a way to tell her that without sounding like a jealous creep. And he didn't stand a chance if he was competing against the wonder duo. He was still the same boy who had bullied her mercilessly, even if she was willing to forgive his actions. He had nothing to offer her.

"I don't know Hermione… As much as I was an ass about it before, it's not really my place to pry..." he said, knowing he sounded as uncomfortable as he felt. There was no getting around it. He was losing his ability to be deceptively smooth around her.

As if reading his mind, she quickly said, "I'm not with either of them, you know."

His eyebrows shot up. "You're not?"

A weight lifted off his chest, and she smiled.

"Were you worried?"

"Uh, well… I'm just not crazy about either of them, that's all," he said, trying to recover from his quick (and probably too enthusiastic) response. "I was just thinking that you deserved someone who appreciates you. I always felt that they took you for granted."

"Did you now?" She had a suspicious smile on her face. "Well, I'm not involved with either of them, but it wasn't for lack of trying on their part."

Draco sat up straighter. This was going to be interesting.

"Ron and I… Well… We had mutual crushes for a while," she said, looking embarrassed. "After we went into hiding, I realized that I didn't feel the same way anymore. No spark, you know? Ron didn't understand though – he kissed me one night and told me that he was in love with me. I had to tell him I loved him as a friend… But only as a friend. It was awful, and Merlin was he ever upset…" she said with a pained look on her face.

"I tried to put it behind me, but then a couple months later, Harry said he needed to talk to me. I should have suspected something… He's never that serious. Anyway, he said that if I wasn't interested in Ron, maybe I would give him a chance. He kissed me then too, said he had developed feelings for me. Beyond friendship. He said Ron knew, and had given him the okay to tell me. I was so shocked…"

She blushed and caught Draco's eye.

"I'm not used to that, you know. People don't… They don't fall in love with me. Not that way. I'm not exotic or beautiful. I'm just me." Draco frowned at that, wondering how she could believe such rubbish. "Ron's confession was a bit expected, I guess, given our history, but Harry's came out of nowhere. I had to tell him the same thing I told Ron. I love them both – really, I would do anything for them – but it's not romantic love. It's not sexual. They're my best friends, plain and simple."

"It made things awkward for a while. Actually, that's an understatement. It was bloody terrible. Living in a tent with both of them, trying to focus on the mission and come out with our friendships intact. God, I felt so lost. I thought something was wrong with me because I couldn't return what they felt."

On the inside, Draco was doing a victory dance. Now he was free to pursue his… Friendship? Something? … With Hermione.

_Would she ever give me a chance?_

_Why am I even thinking about this?_

Perhaps comforting her was a good way to start, no matter what his goal ended up being.

"Hermione… You have nothing to feel bad about. You were being honest with them. It would have been much worse if you had lied to spare their feelings." _Suckers_ , he thought maliciously.

She nodded. "Yeah, I know. It was really the only thing I could do. It was just really hard... They were really my only close friends, and I didn't want to ruin anything. Not a lot of people understand me like they do. Most people I know think I'm just some frigid bookworm know-it-all. It makes it hard to find real friends."

Guilt coursed through Draco when he realized that he had always been one of _those people_... Probably the worst of those people.

Noticing his embarrassed expression, she smiled and quickly added, "I mean, I AM a frigid bookworm know-it-all... I'm just more than that too."

Draco chuckled in response. "Good save. Look, I… Uh… I know I've been one of the worst offenders for misunderstanding you. And tormenting you. Fuck, I was an arrogant prick, and I can't tell you how much I regret it." _Godric, I'm turning into a sap._

She shrugged. "I've forgiven you for that. I think we're entitled to start anew given that we've both saved each other's lives and are now living together in a cave."

He snickered in response. "When you put it like that..."

Hermione laughed. "Hey, it is what it is."

* * *

 

When Draco suggested Hermione take a bath, she didn't fight it. She was still sore in places from the attack, and the thought of relaxing in hot water was incredibly appealing. Although he offered to leave the cave for an hour to give her some privacy, she really didn't fancy the thought of him being too far away from her, and told him to simply turn his back while she got in.

He did as he was told, and faced away from her as she slipped her clothes off and warmed the water with her wand. She paused a moment before stepping in, looking at his broad, muscular back and tall frame. He really _had_ grown up since school. This was not the gangly Malfoy she used to know.

Then she realized she was checking him out while standing completely naked only a few steps from him, and quickly slipped into the hot water, a blush stinging her cheeks. That would have been a tough one to explain. If they were going to try out this… This _thing_ that they had developed – _what would I call this, anyway?_ \- it had to go slowly. She didn't want to make a wrong move and freak him out, no matter what her hormones were telling her.

And my, those hormones had gotten awfully demanding.

Now what on earth was he supposed to do while she bathed? Stand around the tiny cave and try not to look at her? Carry on a conversation with his back turned? A brilliant idea came to mind, and she murmured a charm into the bath water.

"Hey Draco, you can turn around!"

"Uh, you're naked, Hermione. Do you really want me to turn around?"

"Ah, but wait until you see my clever trick," she gloated.

He turned, slowly, obviously curious to see what she had done.

"Oh, that is clever," he said, chuckling.

She had charmed the water to look like milk, so all Draco could really see were her shoulders and head. Everything else was perfectly covered by the opaque water.

"Now you won't need to avoid me while I bathe! We can keep chatting, if you'd like."

"Very smart, my little Gryffindor. I wasn't actually too keen on leaving you alone in here, even though I wanted to give you privacy."

She blushed at his nickname for her, and patted the side of the tub. He closed the distance between them, sitting beside her on the ground. While the action would have seemed completely insane years ago, it felt like the most natural thing in the world now.

"Under these circumstances, privacy is overrated," she said, trying to force the colour out of her cheeks. Why was her body betraying her like this? Was she destined to blush like a schoolgirl every time he called her by an endearing name? "We're living in tight quarters, after all. Although you'll be totally sick of me by the time we get out of here."

 _I doubt that_ , he thought, remembering the feeling of her body pressed against his last night. And that kiss! What he wouldn't do to merit another one of those… Maybe one a little closer to his mouth…

She was humming lightly now, pushing her hands under the surface of the water and causing ripples to brush against her skin. That's when he noticed her chest – although the milky water cut off just below her collarbone, he could still make out the red scars leading down her torso from the snatcher's spell. His face fell.

"I wish I had my potion supplies with me… I could brew you something to lessen the scarring."

She glanced down at her chest, noticing the marks for the first time. She seemed to contemplate them for a moment, and then shrugged. "Well, they won't be pretty, but what doesn't kill you…"

"Makes you stronger. I agree." He pulled up his shirt and showed her the silvery letters scarred into his chest. "You stopped these scars from being worse – from killing me. Now I'm stronger."

She stared at his perfectly-toned chest with a hungry expression on her face, and realized it a moment too late when she saw him looking at her.

With another fierce blush, she suddenly became very interested in the bar of soap she was holding.

Draco, on the other hand, was immensely pleased he had caught the look. He smirked before deciding not to tease her mercilessly about it… He rather liked having her trust, after all. And her possible affections, if that look was any indication.

 _Gods, I can only hope_.

They sat together for an hour, talking quietly, before he turned his back again and she exited the bath. It was a waiting game now to see if Harry and Ron would get word to them somehow, and until then, they would savour the time together as best they could.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

They were both drained for much of the day, and nighttime came quickly.

There was a moment of uncertainty between them as they approached the hammock, unsure of how to arrange themselves, but Draco took the lead, crawling into the belly of the fabric and then turning onto his back to face her. He proceeded, to Hermione's great delight, to open his arms and motioned for her to join him. She slid in, gently resting her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

"This is so much better than sleeping back to back," she mumbled happily into his t-shirt.

"Tell me about it," he said, quietly.

They were still for a while, the sounds of their breathing and the incessant rain creating a soothing soundtrack against the walls of the cave. Draco's mind was far from calm, however, and he grudgingly realized that there was something he needed to voice before his heart betrayed him any further.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to imagine himself being away from Hermione, and yet, their futures were uncertain at best. They had a lot working against them no matter what direction their relationship took - friendship or otherwise. Most immediately, her two lackeys were about to become a definite thorn in his side. His parents would have been a problem if they were in the picture, but there was no point in dwelling on them when they had likely disowned him by now. No, Potter and Weasley would be intruding on his little haven soon, and Draco knew he had to ask Hermione about it before the three men were holding each other at wandpoint.

"Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"What happens now?"

There was a slight pause.

"In what sense?"

"I mean… We're waiting for Potter and Weasley to contact you, right? And then, presumably, either they come find us or we find them, right?"

"Ideally… Why?"

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly.

"How do you suppose they'll react to us being… Uh…"

 _In each other's arms_?

"What I mean is… Being…"

"Being… Close?" she chanced. She wasn't surprised by his question... It was a conversation they needed to have, after all. This undefined affection between them was complicated, flirting with the grey area between friend and something more. She didn't blame him for being confused - Merlin knew she certainly was.

"Yes. Close," Draco continued. "I mean, they don't like me, and the feeling is mutual. They may not want me anywhere near you, fuck, who am I kidding, I _know_ they wouldn't want me anywhere near you. That could get messy and it would probably be upsetting for you. So… I need to ask… " – _he cringed at what he was about to say... why did he have to start caring about her feelings?_ – "Would it be easier for you if I were to leave the picture before any of that happens? I don't want to cause any problems between you three. Even a fool can see how important they are to you. And I guess… I guess I don't have a claim to you like they do, as much as I hate to admit it."

He felt her whole body tense.

"You would leave me?" she said, her voice suddenly shaky. Sure, she knew they didn't have a formal name for their relationship, but she couldn't imagine him being away from her. Had she misread him? Did he not want to give this... This _thing_ a chance?

What the hell was this _thing_ anyway? _Stupid ambiguity._

And was he really offering to put her relationships with Harry and Ron before whatever it was they had? She wasn't sure how she felt about that. It was either really gallant or really hurtful.

"No," he said quickly. "Well, yes, or... I mean, Gods, you'd have to drag me away, but if it would make things easier on you, if YOU asked me to, I would oblige." _And then I would curse Potter and Weasley into eternity_ , he added mentally.

He hoped she would see that he was giving her a chance to back out before he gave into his instincts and chained himself to her side. If it meant he got to stay with her, he would never leave this cave again. But he wasn't about to forge ahead without being sure that she wanted him there. It was for his own protection as much as hers. Merlin, he was ready to give her the world if she asked for it, and it was freaking him right out. He had never felt this way and he was staggered at how little control he had over his emotions. It was as though life was giving him the finger for always keeping himself so detached. Now he had no bloody idea how to cope.

_Hilarious, life. Really funny._

Hermione took a deep breath and raised her head to meet him eye-to-eye.

"Draco?"

He swallowed nervously. She looked, perhaps, a tiny bit angry.

"Thank you for your offer," she began, calmly. "I think I understand where it's coming from, and I appreciate the thought. However," her voice rose slightly in pitch, "You must be _batshit insane_ to think that I would give you up to make my friendships a little less rocky. I can manage whatever they throw at me, and I have a good idea of what it will be. I realize this is a strange situation, but do you… I mean… God…. You saved my life, you've taken such good care of me, and we're fighting for the same thing now. Really, Draco, do you know how much I… How much you mean to me?" Her voice cracked, exposing how emotional she was getting, but she refused to look away. It had to be said. Harry and Ron would accept Draco if she had to hang them by their toes to get the point across. _It may well come to that_ , she realized with a frown.

He didn't trust himself to speak, and simply shook his head.

"So much," she said, gently but firmly. "Probably more than I can explain. I care about you tremendously, and if you leave, I don't think I'd be able to forgive you, noble intentions or not."

Draco felt as though someone had opened up the dark curtains around his heart and let the glorious light in. He broke into a wide smile. She cared about him? Tremendously?

_Life is awesome._

"Well, I guess you're stuck with me indefinitely," he whispered into her ear, not missing her shudder of pleasure as he did so. "I'll be by your side until you send me away."

"And if I don't?" she whispered back. _Because I won't_ , she finished silently. Her heart was pounding against her ribs like a caged rabbit. Gods, she was positively _swooning_ for this man.

He looked at her soberly, searching her face for any sign of hesitation. He found none.

"Then I'd be yours, wouldn't I?"

Then, filled with bold courage from her admission, he leaned forward and kissed her waiting lips.

Draco had kissed girls he fancied several times before, and had enjoyed each experience, kissing being a rather pleasant activity to begin with. However, there was absolutely no word he knew of that could describe what happened to him when their lips met. It was as though his heart had taken flight within his chest. As though he could, should he try, take to the skies without his broom and soar above the earth like a bloody phoenix. He felt like had had indeed risen from the ashes. And when he realized Hermione was returning his kiss with exactly the same intensity, making the sweetest of moans as she did, he felt like maybe orbiting the earth wasn't ambitious enough.

_This is fucking amazing. I can do anything._

Her arms wrapped around him tightly and his brain continued to unravel.

_Maybe I could attempt inter-galaxial travel..._

Her fingers grasped at the fabric of his t-shirt, brushing his skin gently. The cave hummed happily around them.

_Maybe I could become some sort of pan-dimensional being, fuelled only by the feeling of her body against mine..._

Hermione broke the kiss.

He mourned the loss and let out a disappointed gasp as her lips pulled away. Why did she stop? He had been just about ready to dissolve into the beyond.

"Mine?" she whispered with a smile, giving him a look of such blatant adoration that he couldn't stop himself from leaning in to kiss her again.

"Yours," he murmured against her mouth. "All yours."

Fuck Potter and Wesley, he wouldn't give this up for the world.

* * *

 

Draco woke up at dawn wondering how his life had swung from one end of the pendulum to the other so dramatically. From being on death's doorstep, bleeding out on the ground, not caring a stitch for anyone but himself, to this: spooning Hermione from behind, arms wrapped protectively around her, happier than he had ever felt. Ever.

From being at the beck and call of a psychopathic murderer to being a slave to this crazy feeling in his chest.

From being prepared to die for the Dark to being prepared to fight for the Light.

From hate to... Something very pleasant.

_Un-fucking-believable._

They had spent most of the night snogging before they gave into their exhaustion, cocooning together in the warmth of the cave. He glanced down at her sleeping face and felt his heart clench. How was it possible to _feel_ this much? Is this what he had been missing out on all those years when he couldn't be bothered to get close to anyone? Is this what it felt like to actually… Care? Or was it beyond simply caring now?

_Kissing her made me wonder about the possibility of inter-galaxial travel. That's a pretty serious feeling._

Hermione made a small humming sound in her sleep and Draco was hit by a wave of overwhelming affection. Yes, he cared for her. But he was in far deeper than that.

He was falling in love with Hermione.

_Holy shit Draco, get ahold of yourself._

And yet, it was true. He knew it the second he thought it. Nothing but love could feel this strong, this all-consuming. It was exhilarating. Unexpected. Insane. It was all of those things, and yet, nothing seemed to adequately convey how out-of-his-mind terrified he felt.

_How did this happen?_

_What if I mess this up?_

_I can't mess this up._

He buried his face into the crook of her neck and tried to stop his hands from shaking.

_Hermione, I love you._

* * *

 

Although she knew Draco had fallen into a deep sleep after they finally came up for air, Hermione slept very little that night, drifting in and out of slumber restlessly.

Oh, she had _intended_ to sleep. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and was greatly looking forward to dreaming away the rest of the night, wrapped in Draco's arms like a carefully-guarded treasure.

But her mind would not let go.

At first, her mind fed her warm happy thoughts, making her feel high and content and blissful all at once. She had found someone who shared her feelings, who was intelligent and thoughtful, who regarded her as their equal. This was beyond simple good fortune - it felt fated. The mysterious clockwork of the universe had simultaneously thrown her for a loop and put her in her place. From the minute she lost Harry and Ron and somehow found Draco... This was in the works at a level far beyond her comprehension. It was humbling. _Gods_ , what did she do to deserve this?

Then her mind shifted to some of her more carnal thoughts, and she briefly wondered if it would be bad form for her to strip off her skimpy pajamas and demand that Draco take her right there in the hammock. His warm body pressed against hers was driving her mental with desire and she could feel that she had soaked through her thin cotton shorts just thinking of what he could do to her. She wanted his hands on her, his tongue between her legs, his hard length between her lips... She nearly came right there at the mental image of him lapping her up like a kitten to milk.

Draco slept through her fevered fantasies, and it was just as well, because she might have jumped him if he had so much as opened his eyes. It was a struggle - the last thing she wanted to do was move this forward too quickly, although her capacity for virginal patience was already being tested only about two hours into their relationship.

That did not bode will for her 'taking things slow' philosophy.

It made her wonder if the philosophy was deeply flawed and therefore worth revisiting.

She could perform a thorough investigation on what would happen if she didn't take things slow, just this once...

Merlin, did she ever want to investigate.

And yes, that pesky virginity was seeming more and more unnecessary now. Why hold on to what you do not want? It hadn't bothered her much until Draco kissed her; it's not like she was completely inexperienced. She had done her fair share of snogging and some fooling around with Viktor Krum, after all. Viktor had loved touching her while she studied, which was only annoying until he started sliding his fingers over her clit, making her slippery and writhing in his hands almost instantly. She would never look at that Potions essay the same way again, having watched the words on the parchment grow fuzzy as she climaxed, her thighs becoming wet as he gently milked her down from her peak.

Eventually he had started pulling her onto his lap while she read, spreading her thighs and then finger fucking her until she was screaming his name. He rarely wanted much in return, obviously getting off on watching her come more than anything else. It made her feel dreadfully naughty, getting touched like that when she was supposed to be studying. She thanked God for small mercies that nobody had walked in on them when they had been in the middle of it... Imagine Gryffindor's golden student with her skirt hiked up while a Quidditch super star pumped his fingers in and out of her.

But they never had sex, and honestly, Hermione was never that tempted with Viktor. Other than a few snogs and those heartbreaking kisses with Harry and Ron, Hermione's virtue had remained untouched.

Much to her sudden disdain.

But Draco? Dear Morgana, she was ready for him. It might be fast and reckless, but she felt safe with him. She felt adored. And truth be told, she was so emotionally invested in him, it scared her. She wanted to stay by his side forever, and she was hopeful that maybe... Maybe he wanted the same thing.

A drop of her arousal started slipping down her thigh, and she chastised herself. This was so unlike her! If she didn't stop thinking about sex or Draco would catch on immediately.

_Is that really so bad? He knows I'm not a slag... Maybe he wants this as much as I do._

Her thoughts were interrupted when Draco suddenly buried his face in her neck and she felt his hands shake where they rested against her stomach and chest.

_Why is he shaking? Is something wrong?_

She let him stay like that for a while, her concern pushing her passion to the side momentarily. His heavy breathing made him sound distraught, and she wondered if perhaps he had had a nightmare. For reassurance, she snaked her hand over his and pressed herself more firmly into his body.

In response, she felt him harden between her thighs.

_Oh. Oh, it's SO over now. Godric forgive me, but I'm going for it._

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Draco was momentarily horrified when he felt himself harden between Hermione's soft thighs.

He had just meant to hold her, to think about the staggering realization that he had fallen in love with her... But when she pushed back against him, he felt helpless to resist what his body wanted to do. It responded immediately, and he was painfully hard within seconds.

_Oh fuck fuck fuck._

He thought for sure she would push him away, disgusted with his lack of control.

When she let out a soft gasp, he cringed, waiting for her reaction.

And then she slowly, deliberately slid her hand in between her legs, all the way through to where his erection was nestled, and stroked him.

He jolted from he feel of her fingers, letting out a tortured moan.

"Gods Hermione," he rasped. "You don't have to... I mean, don't feel that you have to..."

"Shhh," she said, stroking him a bit faster, pressing his cock against her. Through his thin cotton pants, against her thin cotton shorts, he could feel how hot she was. How... Wet. No, more than wet, she was soaked.

His heart lept in his chest.

_She wants this? She really wants this?_

The idea left him flummoxed. He had only ever fooled around with witches before, fully intending to give up his virginity as soon as he could. But as his parents became more involved with Voldemort, and Draco became implicated, he found himself pulling away from physical and emotional connections, opting instead for the occasional snog and blow job from an overly-eager Pansy. When he began planning his own death, he assumed that he would simply have to die without that particular intimacy. Tragic, but there were bigger things on his mind.

Now, feeling Hermione's hand against him, her body pressing back into his, he felt overwhelmingly thankful that he hadn't given himself to some Slytherin slag.

He shuddered with pleasure and murmured Hermione's name against the skin of her back.

If they had been naked, he could have entered her right then - they were perfectly positioned, the tip of his cock pressing against her wet opening through the fabric. Her hand continued to stroke him, and he heard her breaths quicken.

Another groan escaped his lips. He was falling apart under her touch.

"Draco," she moaned. "Draco... More..."

Needing no more encouragement, he quickly pulled her shorts down over her bum, exposing her arse and her pussy to him. They were still spooned, her back against his chest, and he took advantage of the access the position afforded him. Not wanting to wait another second, he plunged two fingers deep inside of her. She was slick and hot and _oh Gods_ he wanted to be inside of her more than anything.

She let out a cry and bucked against him, deepening the penetration and pressing back against his erection. He slipped his fingers out and stroked her entire pussy, entrance to clit, back and forth, eliciting sweet cries from her as she trembled under his touch. She felt divine. Hardly able to decide how we wanted to touch her next, he slipped his fingers back inside her and pounded them into her mercilessly, nearly reaching his own climax as her cries rose in volume.

"Draco!" she screamed hoarsely. "More!"

He felt her reach back and tug the waistband of his pants down, freeing his cock and allowing him to rub his sensitive head against her wetness. Merlin, he had never felt anything like this before. He kissed her neck and shoulders as he continued to slide his cock along the outside of her pussy. Did she want him to be inside? He certainly wanted to... But would it hurt her?

He felt her arch her back slightly, just enough the change the angle of his cock, making it possible for him to slide in if he wanted to. They both paused, their ragged breaths echoing through the cave.

"Hermione... Do you want me to... Can I... Do you want this?" he said, his voice strained with effort. "I've never done this before."

She nodded, breathing heavily.

"Me neither, but I want it with you... So badly."

"You would give this to me?" he said, in awe. "I - I'm worried I'll cause you pain."

"Draco, I wouldn't want anyone else to have it," she said, realizing with a start that she was being completely honest. "And any pain will be worth the pleasure."

"Gods Hermione, you're incredible," he said, feeling a warm glow from the sincerity in her words. Then, as carefully as he could, he began to ease into her.

They both emitted deep groans as he slid in, inch by inch, adjusting themselves to the sensation of being so intimately connected. Draco started to moan her name quietly, dropping light kisses on her ear as he slowly went deeper.

He felt his cock press against her barrier.

"I'm going to push through it, love," he whispered. She nodded quickly, taking a deep breath.

With a strong thrust, he broke through, pushing all the way into her and burying himself completely inside her body. She let out a wail as her virginity tore away, trembling in his arms.

"Are you okay? Fuck, Hermione, are you okay?" Draco asked, shaken than he had caused her pain. He was trembling too, stroking every inch of skin he could reach to reassure her. She felt like hot, wet silk around his cock, and it was taking all his concentration to stay present.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, the pain is already disappearing. Draco, you feel amazing... Please don't stop."

With a moan of relief, he began to move inside of her. Slowly at first, thrusting in and then out, savouring the incredible sensation as her body pushed back against him. She began to make the occasional cry as he slid into her, and it spurred him on, picking up his pace with a murmur of her name.

Her cries became the sweet calls of "yes, yes, yes, yes..." and he went faster still, pumping into her with a possessive growl. His fingers patrolled her body as he fucked her, and realizing that she still had her tank top on, he grasped the straps and roughly pulled them down to expose her breasts.

Oh, what a sight. Fucking her from behind, her hot arse pressing against his abdomen, her mouth open and panting and her breasts bouncing with each thrust.

He had found heaven. Heaven had a name. And he was whispering it feverishly.

His fingers traveled back down between her legs and he stroked her clit gently, contrasting wildly from his frenzied thrusts into her pussy. It was obviously the right move, because after a few minutes, she began to twitch, and he felt her insides clench. She roared his name and threw her head back, convulsing as her climax took her with the force of a hurricane.

"Oh my God!" she cried. "Oh God, Draco!"

The sound of his name on her lips pushed him right over the edge, and without warning, he exploded into her with a hoarse yell. He whimpered as his seed continued to shoot out of him, waves of wet heat emptying inside of her pussy. He felt her shudder as she came down from her high, grasping his hand in hers.

They lay like that, connected and panting, for ten minutes. Draco kissed everywhere he could reach, stroking her skin, telling her how beautiful she was. Hermione absorbed it all, murmuring affectionate words in return, feeling absolutely sated.

Although the sun was starting to rise, with an unspoken agreement, Draco slid out of her, turned her, and pressed her to his chest. They were both asleep within minutes, happy smiles pulling at their lips.

* * *

 

Hermione woke up to beams of bright sunlight filtering into the cave. Finally, the rain had stopped. It seemed fitting, somehow. As though the sun knew that she was glowing, despite the inherent darkness of their hideout.

There was a persistent ache in her abdomen, but it only comforted her remembering why it was there in the first place.

She and Draco had... Oh my goodness. Oh my _GOD_.

Her body was wrapped around Draco's. In her sleepy state, she couldn't quite tell where he began and where she ended. Also fitting. A shy smile spread over her face. They were a perfect fit.

It was staggering to think about what had happened between them, and Hermione realized that she had never experienced something as emotionally intense in her life. Given the amount of adventure she had squeezed into her young existence, that was saying something. Yes, the sex had been devastatingly good, but not simply because they had both reached such amazing highs.

It was good because it was with him.

It was good because, although she was physically satisfied, on an emotional level she was absolutely floating.

Being close with him like that was difficult to explain. On one hand, she was being pleasured beyond anything she had ever imagined, touched incredibly intimately, and fucked with a passion that made her smolder. Her stomach flipped at the memories of what they had done, of how he had moved inside of her, calling her name.

But through it all, it was her heart's reaction that surprised her the most. The frantic beating continued long after they had finished. In fact, it was still going now, racing in her chest, feeling both warm and cool at the same time. She was _tingling_ with emotion. She felt dizzy with it.

This was not lust.

She had suspected it, of course. She knew that she had waded into those murky emotional depths right up to her waist, testing the waters with far less caution than she normally exercised. Safe to say, she was in neck deep now, and she was considering dipping right under the surface and welcoming whatever mysteries lay underneath.

She wanted to swim in it. She wanted to throw herself in.

It was out of character for her, and she felt strangely relieved. Who cares if she would normally go through a proper courtship before committing herself to someone? Who cares about their rocky past? Ignoring those two obstacles had made her happier than she could ever remember feeling. If this is what happened when she relinquished control every now and then, she would hand over the reins for good. She wanted this feeling to continue forever.

But... Did Draco feel the same way?

Gods, she hoped so. And although she was a little nervous about the possibility that he might not feel as strongly as she did, she was also soothed by some unseen force, calming her with every breath.

It told her that her instincts were right. That Draco felt the same. That they were fated - they were meant to find each other, protect each other, and love each other.

It was frightening and huge, but she didn't want to shrink away from it. _This_ is what Dumbledore had meant. Love really is the untamable force that holds the universe together. Love is it; the beginning and the end. She understood that now. She felt it more deeply than she thought possible.

In her mind, curled up against Draco in the hammock, Hermione took a breath and allowed her subconscious to take that final step and slip below the surface.

No more wading in the shallow end. She was going to swim.

* * *

 

After a half an hour of restless napping, Hermione slipped out of the hammock, making a quick trip outside to relieve her rather persistent bladder. She had considered waking Draco to tell him where she was going, but he looked so peaceful as he slept that she decided against it. She'd be back in no time, slide back into his arms, and avoid rousing him altogether. He looked like an angel with his silvery hair and soft skin... Waking him would be pointless.

Upon reaching the mouth of the cave, she blinked in the sunlight like a mole, having been cooped up in the dark since the attack. The light almost stung her, it was so bright. She blocked it out with a raised arm, and started to walk. It felt good to stretch her legs, but she didn't wander too far, careful to stay within the wards. A quick pee and a stroll was all she needed. She wasn't taking the chance of losing Draco only moments after realizing that she had fallen for him. Not a chance in hell. Besides, she still had to tell him how she felt.

_That's going to be an interesting conversation._

She chuckled to herself as she walked. What a crazy turn of events. Just imagine Harry and Ron's reaction when she...

_Fuck. Harry and Ron._

She stopped dead in her tracks, panic rising in her chest.

Although she had confidently assured Draco that she would look after the situation with her best friends, the honest truth was that she was scared. Her boys were not good with their tempers, but beyond that, they had both already confessed their feelings to her. Feelings she didn't return.

They would not take this well. She knew them well enough to know that. It would be hard to tell them she had fallen for _anyone_ , let alone _Malfoy_. And they had a tendency to hex first, ask questions later.

_This is not good._

Hermione wracked her brain to think of a good way to phrase it... Something that would make them see how happy Draco made her. How she felt complete with him. How nothing would change her mind. How her friendship with them didn't need to change even though Draco was in the picture. Anything to make them understand.

But no matter how she said it, they would react. It could be a nightmare of a situation, she realized with sad resignation. And it could even get violent if things went horribly wrong.

She would have to work the horcrux angle - help them accept him because of what he had done, and then break the news once they had gotten used to the idea of Draco being a decent bloke. Take it slow. It was the best she could do. She had no idea where Harry and Ron were, or even if they had gotten her message, but she needed a plan if they managed to track her down.

_I wish they would respond already!_

Having stretched her legs and taken care of her needs, she headed back to the cave. Maybe she could catch a bit more sleep with Draco before they had to go hunting for food.

Except that Draco wasn't there.

Hermione stared at the empty hammock, frozen with fear. She sucked in a sharp breath. She glanced around... The extra wand was gone.

The best case scenario was that nature called, and he would be back in a minute.

The worst case scenario was that he regretted last night and fled.

Tears had already started to well up in her eyes, completely against her will. _Don't be stupid. You don't know why he left. It could be anything._ But the very idea that he might regret what happened cut her so deeply that she actually felt numb. Was her intuition that off the mark? Was she so blinded by her feelings that she misjudged him? She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it.

_Hold it together, Hermione. He'll be back. Give him five minutes, and he'll be back._

She stood, unmoving, counting the seconds as they ticked by, all the way up to the five minute mark. A few tears slipped out of her eyes, making shiny rivers down her cheeks. She ignored them.

_Two minutes and thirty seconds..._

_Three minutes and forty five seconds..._

_Four minutes and ten seconds..._

Time was up.

No Draco.

No beautiful Draco in the hammock, waiting for her with his arms open, calling her 'love' and trailing soft kisses down her neck.

She let out a sob. Would he have apparated away? Or would he leave by foot?

_Oh my God... Did he really regret it?_

She had to find out. Her gut didn't believe that he had left her, and her gut always steered her in the right direction. With a tight grip on her wand, she ran out of the cave, hoping with every fibre of her being that she wasn't going to confront a worst case scenario when she found him.


	10. Chapter 10

When Draco woke up to find Hermione gone, he figured she must have stepped out to use the loo, euphemism as it was. The hammock was still warm, still saturated with her flowery scent, so she had probably just left. He would give her a few minutes before starting to worry. He trusted her, after all - she wouldn't go far.

A dreamy smile crossed his face as he remembered their night together. Merlin, there was no denying it; he was absolutely crazy about her. As he recalled the feeling of her curves, her wet heat, the sound of his name on her lips when she came on his rigid cock... He was aroused again within seconds. Draco couldn't have asked for a more memorable first time if he tried. He wanted every time to be like that, with her, always.

With a groan, he pulled himself out of the hammock to stretch his legs, rearranging his erection so it wouldn't be so distracting. The sun drew him to the mouth of the cave to admire the beautiful day. He didn't see her in the woods nearby, and pushed down his feeling of concern. She was fine. She would be back any second now.

A veritable symphony of birds could be heard from where he stood, and he relaxed as he listened to them sing. The cheerful musical sounds were soothing, and he let his eyes drift shut as he soaked them in.

His eyebrows knitted together suddenly. Something wasn't right. He could hear an additional sound buried under the birdsong... What was it?

Draco's eyes snapped open. Male voices.

_Death Eaters or Demented Duo?_

Both options made his stomach clench, since they were equally likely to result in a confrontation. Only one meant Hermione harm, however, so he hoped that Potter and Weasley were the ones wandering through his woods.

Funny that he considered the woods his now. His and Hermione's.

But wait, is that why she left the cave? Is she talking to them now? What if they try to take her away against her will? Draco figured they'd have an easier time getting Voldemort to feel genuine remorse, but he was worried nonetheless. He couldn't let those two lovesick fools mess up what he had with Hermione. He knew they wouldn't be happy with the situation, and he didn't want them taking any of their anger out on her. Who knew what they would say to her to push them apart? He wouldn't stand for that; they would have to get through him first.

He grabbed the snatcher's wand - Hermione had checked it over the night before and gave him the go-ahead. Quickly transfiguring his clothes, he took off in the direction of the voices, determined to find Hermione and help her explain things to her hot-headed friends.

He had only been walking through the woods for a few minutes when he was knocked off his feet by a strong curse. Swearing, he clutched his forehead to find blood trickling down his face. His wand was somewhere on the ground, but he couldn't see through the blood.

"Don't move, Malfoy!" said an angry voice.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, you daft son of a bitch," Draco spat, trying to keep the blood out of his eyes. He couldn't quite make out his attacker, but he knew perfectly well who it was. He had to listen to that annoying voice throughout his entire time at Hogwarts. "I'm not working against you, Potter. I was hoping Hermione might have mentioned that in her message."

"She did," said another voice, this one sounding even angrier than Potter's. Weasley's, no doubt. "But we know better than to believe your bullshit. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater."

"Thank you so much for that helpful lesson in absolute stupidity, Weasley, but it may interest you to know that I've fallen out of favour with the Dark Psycho after destroying one of his horcruxes. I would call that a pretty drastic change of heart. Hermione saved my life - " He was cut off by another powerful hex that ripped up his stomach and knocked him flat on his back.

"She did no such thing!" roared Harry. "You're a fucking liar! Now what did you do with her? Where is she? We can't find the bloody cave because of her wards."

 _Smart girl_ , thought Draco with pride, happy for the distraction from the searing pain of the wounds. He was losing blood quickly... He could tell by the wooziness in his head. He needed to get out of this fast. These two were angry enough to kill him. _Fucking savages_.

"She's in the cave, idiots," he lied. "And she did save my life. We've been working together this entire month. Will you get a fucking grip already?"

Yet another curse slammed into his damaged body and he cried out in pain, curling up on the ground.

"Working together?" seethed Weasley. "Bollocks. You know nothing about her. You've caused her nothing but pain! You've been keeping her from finding us!"

"Gods you two are thick," Draco rasped. "She didn't want to send a patronus right away because she was worried it would expose you if it arrived at the wrong time. She only decided to go for it after she found out about the horcrux. I haven't kept her from anything. If she took her time contacting you, that was her call, not mine. You should trust her judgment, since you're supposed to be her bloody best friends."

"We do trust her!" Harry yelled, fully enraged. "We just don't trust you! We're looking out for her. We love her. Something you know nothing about, you friendless prat. We only want the best for her."

"Well then you should let her decide what she thinks is best, you fucking morons. She's got more brains than ten of you put together!" Draco growled. "If you truly loved her, you would respect her decisions."

"You talk as though you've actually thought this through, Malfoy," mocked Ron. "Like you actually care what happens to her."

"I do care what happens to her," Draco said through clenched teeth. "And I'll tell you why. Because she means everything to me. Because I'm in love with her. Because I would do anything to protect her. Get. That. Through. Your. Heads."

There was a moment of silence as his words sunk in.

"I'm going to fucking kill you," said Harry, sounding darker than Draco ever thought possible coming from the supposed saviour of the wizarding world. Maybe the Golden Boy was just a glorified murderer after all.

"Harry James Potter, you will do no such thing," snarled a voice that made Draco want to weep with relief. Squinting in the direction of the sound, Draco could fuzzily make out the face of a very angry Hermione with her wand drawn. She looked like an avenging angel, her hair in wild curls around her face, and her face set in an expression of absolute rage.

 _She's so pretty_ , he thought groggily. _And spinny. Why is she so spinny?_

"You will put down your wands before I have to knock both of you out," she continued, much to the wide eyed shock of Harry and Ron. "I had hoped we would reunite under happier circumstances, but as it stands, I am absolutely furious with you both! You knew! You knew he was helping us and I find you ready to commit murder? He's bleeding out on the ground and you can't stop for a minute to think this through? Why in God's name would I put that information in my patronus if I didn't mean it, you fucking prats! Answer me!"

"'Mione," Ron started, reaching out his hand to her. She glared at him venomously and he slowly withdrew it, realizing that she was deadly serious. "'Mione, we've been so worried about you! Why are you taking his side? He's Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!"

"He is Draco to me," she said in a deceptively calm voice. It was clear to all of them that she was ready to explode. "He may have neglected to tell you this, but he saved my life. I would be dead if it wasn't for him, so that's reason number one why you need to start thinking with your heads and not your wands."

"Hermione, love," Harry said in a pleading voice. Hermione flinched at the pet name. Only one person was allowed to call her that now. Harry noticed the reaction, and changed his tactic. "'Mione, look. I'm putting down my wand. Ron is too," he said, nodding at Ron as his friend followed his lead. "Listen, we've been worried sick about you. When we got your patronus, we thought Malfoy had tricked you - "

"What, because I'm a total idiot?"

"No, no of course not... But he's not trustworthy, and he's a Death Eater Hermione! Can't you see that?"

"He is no longer a Death Eater, and he destroyed the cup, Harry, not us. You need to wrap your head around the fact that he's on our side. He's been looking after me. He hasn't been keeping me from you... I was just being cautious about contacting you because I didn't want to give you away."

Harry looked guiltily at Draco's bleeding body. "That's what he told us, but - "

"But you thought it would be better to slice him up instead of listen to what he had to say?" she snapped. "What the fuck are you thinking, using spells like this? He's unarmed!"

"But he's been saying crazy things, Hermione!" Ron piped up, looking desperate. "He said you saved his life! And he said... He said he loved you!"

"I did save his life, Ron," Hermione replied, her expression softening. "And if he says he loves me, well, maybe that's true as well." She allowed herself to look at Draco for the first time since she arrived, having been too worried about the volatile Harry and Ron to take her eyes off them until now. He was in rough shape, bleeding out of several messy-looking wounds, but he met her eyes with an intensity and nervousness she understood at once.

He really did love her.

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

"Hermione, you're not making sense," Harry said, frantically trying to make her see reason. "He's a waste of skin! He's the scum of the earth! He doesn't love you, he's just trying to get something from you..."

Hermione raised her wand to point directly between Harry's eyes.

"Harry, if you insult the man I love one more time, I won't be held responsible for my actions."

All three men gaped at her words.

"You heard me right," she growled. "I'm sorry I didn't love either of you the way you wanted me to. I love you like you're my own flesh and blood, but I'm not _in_ love with you. I'm in love with Draco. It may seem insane, it may be unbelievable to you, but I hope you can find it within yourselves to understand. I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm just trying to be honest. This isn't how I wanted to tell you..." She trailed off, suddenly overwhelmed, her eyes welling up. A tear escaped down her cheek. "It happened so quickly, and I've been so worried about you two..." she choked out. "I don't want this to be the end of our friendship, but if you can't accept it..."

Ron broke the tension after several seconds of terrible, angry silence.

"Oh, 'Mione..." he said, stepping towards her and wrapping her in a fierce hug. "I'm sorry. It just seemed so unlikely, and we were so worried. I'm sorry, 'Mione. Please forgive us. We love you. We'll manage it." He sounded pained to be offering his acceptance out loud, and threw a glare in Draco's direction.

Hermione sobbed into his shoulder, and Harry joined in the hug, wrapping his arms around both of them.

"We do love you, Hermione. And we are sorry. We didn't realize. Of course this won't end our friendship... It will just take some getting used to." He sounded reluctant, and furious as hell, but stayed focused on Hermione, ignoring Draco completely.

Draco watched the scene unfold like it was some detached, abstract fantasy, a silly smile plastered on his face. The wonder trio was back together, but oddly, he didn't feel bothered. In fact, he felt elated. Maybe it was the blood loss affecting his thoughts, but all he could think of was the fact that Hermione loved him.

Hermione loved _him_.

He was her beloved. She was his.

She had been ready to give up the Demented Duo for him. He could scarcely believe it.

Some little hug-fest wasn't going to bother him at this point. He was loved by the most amazing witch he had ever met, and he loved her back. Nothing could bring him down.

Nothing except losing consciousness, which he did right then, slipping into darkness as he caught Hermione's terrified eyes, her lips shouting his name.

* * *

 

Draco woke up in the cave, Hermione's worried face hovering above him while she worked on his wounds. When his eyes flickered open, she let out a shriek and gathered him up in her arms.

"Thank God you're awake," she said in a shaky voice. "You'd lost a lot of blood, and I don't have anymore blood replenishing potion, so we've had to make do with stabilizing you for now..."

He returned her embrace with a growl, not registering the pain from his fresh scars. He pulled her down beside him on the ground and buried his face in her hair. She pressed her mouth against his neck and kissed him softly while she cried. "I was so worried..." she murmured against his skin.

"I'm going to be okay," he said, relishing the feeling of her body against his. "You don't need to worry. It's going to take more than a few gashes to keep me away from you, you know."

"I know that now," she whispered, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. "I'll admit, when I got back to the cave and you were gone, I thought maybe you regretted last night."

"Merlin Hermione, that was the best night of my life!" he said, genuinely shocked. _Crazy girl_. "I'd have to be mad to regret it! I had just gone to see where you went. When I heard Potter and Weasley's voices in the woods, I figured you had gone to talk to them. I went down to find you, but I was attacked instead..." he finished with a grimace. "Your friends are assholes, by the way."

Hermione gave a watery chuckle. "Yeah. I heard the shouting and ran down, but I wasn't quite fast enough. Sorry about them. They'll come around."

"So... How much did you hear?" he asked, timidly. It seemed stupid to be nervous about his confession now, but it wasn't really how he imagined her finding out.

"I heard you tell them why you care what happens to me, if that's what you mean," she said with a quiet smile, her fingers reaching up to brush his cheeks.

"Well, it's all true," he replied shyly. "Did you mean what you said about me?"

"Every word," she said, equally shy. "I really do love you. Insane, isn't it?"

Draco's heart skipped a beat and he wondered if he'd ever get tired of hearing her say that.

"I love you too, Hermione. And yes, it's completely mad," he said, grinning.

Draco leaned in to kiss her, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Listen lovebirds," said Harry, sounding annoyed. "This is all very touching, but we need to get back to Headquarters, and before we do that, we have to catch you up on a few things."

Hermione groaned, and pulled away from Draco. "Can't we just go there and discuss things after?"

Ron walked into the cave, his mouth full of something. Draco saw Hermione roll her eyes and mutter something about a "bottomless pit."

"Not exactly," Ron said, still chewing. "This is important, and it has to do with Malfoy."

"With me?" Draco said, frowning and sitting up. "How so?"

"Well," Harry said, sitting awkwardly on the ground in front of them. "When we got your patronus, Hermione, we immediately went back to Headquarters to touch base and find out if they had any extra information. It also took us a bit of time to figure out where you were, although eventually we remembered this place. You always did love it here, not that I understand why. Anyway, we arrive, and Remus is there, looking worried. He said the Order picked up two unexpected defectors from You-Know-Who's inner circle. They were being questioned upstairs under Veritaserum."

"Who were they?" Hermione asked, wondering where this was going.

"Malfoy's parents," he answered.

Draco felt his stomach drop. "I'm sorry, what? Did you just say that my parents defected?"

"Indeed."

"They must be lying," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I couldn't even tell my parents about my plans because I figured they would turn me in... There's no way they randomly decided to switch sides."

"Well, apparently it wasn't random," said Ron, mercifully understandable now that he had finished eating. "According to them, two Death Eaters showed up at the Manor last month claiming to have killed you and left you in the woods somewhere. Your parents completely freaked out, but when they noticed your blood wards at the manor hadn't changed, they hoped you must have survived somehow. They came to the Order to find you and barter for your release. They tried to make it look like they had gone missing to buy themselves some time before You-Know-Who went looking for them. I guess they were hoping to find you in the dungeons at Headquarters, make some sort of deal to get you out, and then go into hiding."

Draco's jaw dropped open. "They... They left You-Know-Who to come find me? But they're his most loyal followers! They dragged me into this! They don't care what happens to me!"

"Apparently they had a change of heart," Harry said, looking at Draco sadly, wondering what sort of childhood he must have had. "Don't get me wrong... Although everything checked out under Veritaserum, it's not like they were happy to be there. When they found out the Order didn't have you, your mother started to cry and your father just shut down. They're still staying at Headquarters, but they're not really speaking to anyone. Remus and Mad-Eye have been trying to get information out of them, but they won't talk as long as they think Draco is missing. I think they feel there's no point to anything if he's dead."

"We didn't actually tell anyone about the mention of Malfoy in your patronus, Hermione," Ron said, continuing. "We still didn't really know what the situation was, and we didn't want to put either of you in danger."

"Yeah, you prefer to do that in person," Draco said, angrily.

Hermione cut in before Ron could reply, noticing the telltale warning sign of his reddening face and ears.

"Okay, let's just get this cleared up... Draco's parent's are at Headquarters right now, supposedly defected from You-Know-Who, but aren't talking until they find out if he's safe."

"That's about it," said Harry, nodding.

"Then they want to take him into hiding, presumably until the war is over," Hermione said.

Another nod from Harry.

Draco spoke up, annoyed. "Well, that's bollocks! I'm not going into hiding. There's still another horcrux to destroy, there's a psychopath on the loose, and most importantly, I'm not leaving Hermione's side. Ever. So we can go back, I can talk to them and hopefully get some information that will help us, but they can go into hiding alone. I still find it hard to believe that they've changed... For Merlin's sake, my entire life, all they've ever done is seek power by any means necessary and preach about pureblooded values. They haven't been good parents for as long as I can remember, and they pretty much forced me to be a Death Eater, so if they want my loyalty now, they can go fuck themselves. I'm not running off with them just because they might have grown backbones. Bloody suspicious, if you ask me."

There was a heavy silence around Draco as he stared at the ground, fuming.

"Well said, mate!" said Ron, forcing Draco to look up. Both Harry and Ron were looking at him in the funniest way... Like they were... Proud? They had creepy little smiles on their faces. Friendly smiles.

It was deeply disturbing.

Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably. He hadn't really meant to say so much. He still felt a little sore about how his parents had treated him.

"Seriously Malfoy... That was an impressive speech. Maybe it won't be so bad having you on our side after all," Harry said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Yeah, although with you around, I think we're more likely to die by Hermione's wand than You-Know-Who's," Ron chuckled.

"Only if you don't behave," Hermione said primly, putting her hand over Draco's.

Draco looked around at the three of them in amazement and suddenly burst into laughter. This had to be the strangest mind-fuck of a conversation he'd ever had. Hermione followed with a giggle and eventually all four of them were clutching their sides with tears running down their cheeks.


	11. Chapter 11

They were all a bit nervous as they stepped up to the front door of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry and Ron were worried about the Order's reaction to Draco, Hermione was worried about Draco's reaction to his parent's, and Draco was only worried about one thing: what his parents would say when he told them he was in love with Hermione Granger, poster-girl for Muggle-borns, brightest witch of her age, and a member of the Golden Trio. Horcruxes could wait; he planned to tell them about his feelings before he did anything else. The sooner he made them realize he wouldn't be making them little pureblooded babies, the better. Besides, it might be a good test to see if their loyalties really had changed. If they murdered him in cold blood, well, at least his suspicions were correct. He _really_ didn't know what to make of this defection nonsense.

"Look, Ron and I will go in and explain things to any of the Order members who are here. You two can stay in the sitting room for a bit, and when we're done explaining, Malfoy can go speak to his parents. Sound okay?" said Harry.

Hermione and Draco nodded mutely, and the foursome stepped inside the front door. Harry and Ron split off immediately to look for Order members, while Hermione turned to Draco. She had a knowing smile on her face.

"You're not going to wait for them, I imagine?" she said.

"How is it you know me so well?" Draco chuckled. "No, I have no intention of waiting. My parents don't play by the rules, and neither do I. That, and I sure as fuck don't take orders from Potter."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure you'd understand if I stood outside the door and kept an ear out for you?"

"Of course. I pity my parents if they try and cross you. That was some scary shit you pulled on Potter."

"Yes, well, it's easy when you're not faking it," she said absent-mindedly. "Shall we go find them? There are quite a few rooms here."

Draco shook his head. "No need. See my signet ring?" He held up his hand to show her the gold band with a green "M" on it. "This will take me to them."

He tapped the ring with his wand, closed his eyes, and waited. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and smiled. "Only one floor up."

Hermione furrowed her brow as they started up the stairs. "Wait, couldn't they have used that to find you?"

"No, it's for short distances only. Handy little charm, though. Especially when you grow up in a house the size of the manor."

He reached the door that the ring was leading him to. Suddenly he felt incredibly nervous.

Turning to Hermione, he put his hands on her shoulders and said, "Listen, whatever happens in there, just know that I love you. Truly. I'm so glad I found you. Well, I guess technically you found me, but -"

"This isn't goodbye, Draco," she said, frowning. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you, parents or not."

"I know, and I'm grateful... I just... I'm going to tell them about you and I don't really know how they will react. If they say anything hurtful that you happen to hear, pay them no mind. I think it's too much to expect them to understand."

Instead of responding, Hermione leaned in and kissed him. His chest exploded with the same butterfly feeling he had when they kissed for the first time. He savoured the moment, letting himself absorb her taste, her scent, the feeling of her lips. He almost whimpered when she broke away, although he felt calmer and far less afraid than he had minutes earlier.

"You'll be okay. I'll be right here," she assured him. With a last peck on the lips, she pointed him towards the door, and he turned the knob.

His father was sitting at a writing desk, scribbling something down, while his mother was standing by the only window in the room, looking out with sad eyes. They looked very much the same as they always did in the manor, except in this strange house, their rigid posture, expensive clothes and stern expressions looked out of place. They both looked broken, their pride sucked away by the circumstances of the war.

Draco cleared his throat.

His mother gasped and his father stood up quickly, looking at Draco with a shocked expression.

"Is this a trick?" Narcissa whispered, obviously fearing that she had lost her mind.

"No mother, father, it's me," Draco said calmly. "I've been in hiding, and I found out that you were here only minutes ago."

"But they told us they didn't know where you were!" his father said, his cool demeanor dropping to expose a very tired, worried man. His hand shot out and he leaned against the desk heavily, swaying slightly. Draco looked at him with concern.

"They didn't, father. They are only finding out now. I was asked to wait to see you until they knew, but as you can imagine, I wasn't interested in waiting."

Narcissa broke the awkward distance between them and rushed forward, crushing Draco in a fierce hug. It was one of the only times he could remember her embracing him, and he had to remind himself to hug her back after the surprise had worn off.

"Draco, I've been so worried about you," she sobbed into his shoulder. "We thought you had been killed!"

"It wasn't for lack of trying, mother," Draco said, stroking her hair, relishing the rare affection. "I've never been closer to death, but in the end, they didn't succeed."

Lucius walked up to him now, placing a hand on Narcissa's back. "Cissa, perhaps we should let him explain things to us." His tone was gentler than Draco had ever heard, and he wondered briefly if his parents had actually changed somehow. They were so... _Different_ here. There was no posturing, strutting about, or snide comments, and they were already well into a conversation. This simply didn't happen with his parents. It was making him uneasy.

They moved over to the loveseat, his parents sitting side by side and Draco taking the plush matching chair in front of them. It felt strange, having his parents look at him expectantly. They had always been so dismissive, and now, here they were, waiting on his words.

He decided to start with a bang, lest he not be able to finish. Gathering all his courage, he took a breath and spoke.

"Before I begin, I'd like to make something clear to both of you. If you are hoping that this is a big misunderstanding and that I'll be waltzing back to the Dark Lord, you are gravely mistaken. I chose to leave his service, and I will never return. Further, as much as the Order annoys me to no end, I will be helping them bring the Dark Lord down to the best of my ability. Is this understood?"

He noticed his father clench his jaw and his mother's eyes widen, but eventually they both nodded.

"I destroyed something, something very important to the Dark Lord. I did it to weaken him, because I realized that I no longer believed in what he stood for. I also did it knowing that I would likely be killed for my transgression, but it was a sacrifice I was prepared to make. I didn't confide this in either of you because I didn't believe you would understand, and I didn't want my mission to be sabotaged."

"Once the deed was discovered, I was taken out into the woods and beaten nearly to death. They broke more bones than I can count. They tortured me. They also left me with this." Draco pulled up his shirt and showed his parents the lettered scar across his chest. They both gasped at the sight.

"I didn't die, as you can see. The reason I didn't die is because someone fought off the Death Eaters and took me away from those woods. This person healed me, looked after me, and nursed me to health. I would have died if it weren't for their efforts."

"Who did this for you, son?" Lucius asked, having noticed the complete lack of clues in Draco's explanation.

There was a small silence as Draco readied himself.

"It was Hermione Granger."

"Hermione Granger?" his mother repeated, looking puzzled. "But... You hated each other in school, as I remember. She's the Muggle-born."

"She's Potter's best friend," said Lucius, with a frown.

"Yes, all of the above. She's also a very bright witch," continued Draco. "She healed me with minimal supplies. She hid us in a remote cave. She hunted for food and set up complicated wards to keep us safe. She is the only reason I'm alive. She also did this despite the fact that I bullied and taunted her all through school, despite the fact that I have the Dark Mark."

"My goodness... She certainly has strength of character," he heard his mother murmur.

Draco's brow furrowed. The explosion he was expecting hadn't come. Perhaps it was simply building up to his final piece of news.

"There's more," he said. Lucius raised his eyebrows at him as if to say, _get on with it_.

"I've fallen in love with her."

The look on his parents' faces was almost enough to make him burst out in nervous laughter. Both their jaws dropped open at the exact same time, leaving them looking like fish out of water.

"I realize she's Muggle-born, and that she's a member of the Golden Trio," he said, rushing to finish. "I also realize that this is probably exactly the opposite of what you had hoped for me to do, and trust me, it's the last thing I expected to happen. But please believe that I have never been happier or felt more complete than I do with her. I am not asking you to understand, or approve... I simply wanted you to know."

A painful silence descended on the room. The only sound Draco could hear was his mother's breathing and the ticking of an old clock on the bookcase.

Eventually, Lucius took a deep breath. He looked eerily calm.

"Where is she now, Draco? Surely a woman with such courage didn't leave you to confront your Death Eater parents alone."

The door opened and Hermione walked in, stopping behind Draco's chair, with her hand on his shoulder. "That's correct, sir. I'm right here."

"This room has a rather complicated silencing charm on it, Ms. Granger," Lucius said, his eyes narrowing. He was obviously wondering how she managed to hear him ask for her whereabouts.

"Apparently not complicated enough, sir," Hermione said, lightly. She was either completely unafraid, or very good at pretending, Draco decided. And Hermione didn't usually pretend.

The corners of Lucius's mouth twitched. Was he trying to suppress... A smile?

"Ms. Granger, you helped someone you knew to be a Death Eater from a terrible fate. I admit, I'm curious as to why."

"Well, Draco says it's because I'm a 'bloody Gryffindor', but I simply prefer not to judge people based on their past if they are trying to change for the better." She paused. "Also, I'm a bloody Gryffindor."

Lucius bit his lip to keep from laughing and Narcissa coughed to cover up her smile.

"I take it, then, that you return Draco's feelings for you?"

"Very much sir. You've raised a charming young man," she said, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Although between you and me, he's not much of a hunter."

Lucius and Narcissa both snorted with laughter, trying unsuccessfully to school their features under a mask of seriousness.

"I do apologize for that glaring omission in his upbringing, Ms. Granger."

"Not a problem, sir. And please, call me Hermione."

"Very well, Hermione. May I ask what your plans are for the future?"

"I plan to help bring down the maniac living in your house, sir. Beyond that... Well... Let's just say I'm a bit preoccupied with survival at the moment."

"I see," Lucius said thoughtfully. "And your plans for my son?"

"I'd like to make him happy. Honestly, I'm not too concerned about the details."

Draco shook himself out of his stupor at the banter passing between Hermione and his father, and looked back over his shoulder at her. "You already make me happy, Hermione."

"Glad to hear it, love," she said, shooting him a glowing smile.

Narcissa spoke up for the first time since Hermione joined them, fixing her elegant gaze on the couple. She looked quite at ease now, a gentle expression on her face.

"Well, it appears our Draco has found a witch who is intelligent, level-headed, courageous and witty enough to keep my husband on his toes. I see no reason to offer anything but warm congratulations, wouldn't you agree, Lucius?"

"Indeed," Lucius said with a cheeky smile.

"Uh, excuse me, but did you both just offer us your blessing?" Draco stammered. This couldn't really be happening. He must be imagining things.

"We did, Draco," said Narcissa, innocently. "Why? Would you rather not have it?"

"No, it's just that... I expected a lot more... Uh... Anger."

His mother's expression turned sad. "Draco, we thought you were dead. We were out of our minds with grief. We've spent our lives living the way we were taught only to discover that in the end, we had gained nothing of real value. It was a difficult lesson to learn. Today, not only was our son returned to us, but he is happier and more fulfilled than we have ever seen him. If we owe anything to Hermione, it is our everlasting gratitude, not our scorn."

At the shock of her words, Draco felt his eyes well up with tears, and Hermione's hand tightened on his shoulder. He had been terribly wrong about his parents, and it was a relief.

"Thank you for your understanding," Hermione said, saving him the trouble of speaking while he was getting choked up.

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes darted towards the door, and she raised her wand.

"Hermione, what are you - " Draco began.

He didn't have a chance to finish, as the door flew open and an angry Harry and Ron ran in. Hermione threw up a shield spell before anyone could so much as blink, sheltering Draco's parents from a handful of hexes.

"Are you quite finished!" Hermione shrieked. "Imbeciles! We are all fine!"

She stood, panting, between the two camps, glaring daggers at her two best friends.

"Shit," said Harry and Ron at the same time.

"We've done it again, I think," said Ron immediately after.

"We'll just be leaving, seeing as how, y'know, everything's under control," said Harry, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. He and Ron turned and ran, with Hermione following close behind them, shooting what seemed to be very unpleasant hexes their way.

"Cowards!" she yelled, disappearing out the door. "Get your sorry arses back here and face me like men!"

"Oh dear," said Narcissa. "I almost feel bad for those boys when she catches up to them."

"Now darling," Lucius said calmly. "I'm sure they knew what they were getting into when they tried to out-duel a witch with rather terrifying reflexes."

Draco chuckled to himself. It was endlessly amusing to see Hermione put the Demented Duo in their place.

"She really is something else, Draco," said Narcissa, looking at him fondly. "Very different. Very bright."

"If you mean she's not a pureblooded airhead, yes, she's certainly something else," he replied. "She's bloody amazing."

Screams that sounded an awful lot like two young men being hexed into a hole rose up through the old house.

Lucius smirked, and with something resembling pride in his voice, said, "I think I quite like her."

* * *

 

At Hermione's request, the Order refrained from questioning Draco's parents that evening. Also at Hermione's request, she and Draco were set up in their own room with a large bed to share. Everyone in the house was a little scared of her following her attack on Harry and Ron... The two boys still hadn't figured out how to change their feet back to normal, and were stuck with having wheels underneath each ankle instead. They had both fallen down the stairs multiple times, and had incurred everyone's anger by rolling over at least a few toes.

After washing up for bed, Hermione slipped into the small backyard for a breath of fresh air. When she heard the door open and close, she assumed Draco had followed her out, but was surprised to find Narcissa beside her instead.

"Evening Mrs. Malfoy," she said with a smile.

"Good evening Hermione. And please, it's Narcissa, dear."

The two women gazed up at the stars together for several minutes in comfortable silence. Narcissa pointed upwards and said, "That's Draco's constellation right there."

"It's beautiful," Hermione said, admiring the twinkling namesake. "Unique and dramatic, just like him."

Narcissa laughed happily, and Hermione decided that the woman beside her was really one of the most stunning people she had ever laid eyes on. Her white-blonde hair shone in the moonlight, and her smile seemed to carry a light all its own. If it weren't for the regal nature of her face, she could easily pass for eighteen. Hermione vowed to make her laugh more often, just to enjoy the results.

Narcissa's expression eventually sobered, and she looked lost in thought.

"Hermione, I should tell you... I know about the horcruxes. I know that's what Draco destroyed, and I imagine that's what you've been doing for the past while as well."

Hermione didn't bother to deny anything. Draco's mother was obviously an intelligent woman, and besides, Hermione didn't really believe that she supported Voldemort after such a drastic defection.

Narcissa took her silence as an affirmation, and continued.

"I've also judged by the panic at the manor that most of them have been demolished."

Hermione gave her a firm nod. "One left, and then we can end this."

Narcissa turned towards Hermione with a very serious expression on her face. "It's that blasted snake, isn't it?" she whispered.

Hermione didn't hide her surprise. "How did you know?"

"A hunch. I've been around enough dark magic to know when something's really off the charts. I've never met anything as evil as that snake, minus perhaps the Dark Lord himself."

"Well, you're right," Hermione said, impressed. "Once we figure out how to kill Nagini, Harry will be able to confront You-Know-Who. And maybe I'm being optimistic, but I do believe we can get rid of him."

"I completely agree, my dear," said Narcissa. "When Draco disappeared, I had to completely reevaluate my beliefs, and you know what I discovered?"

"What?" asked Hermione, intrigued.

"I don't really like following the orders of others, especially when those people are trying to harm my loved ones. Malfoys are leaders, and yet we let ourselves be foolishly led astray by that lunatic. It's shameful, but I'm happier knowing that I prefer my autonomy and my family over false power. I don't plan to make the same mistake twice."

"I'm glad to hear it," Hermione answered truthfully. The more she spoke with Narcissa, the more she liked her.

"Draco is very lucky to have you, dear. I'm very proud of both of you."

"That's very kind of you to say. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about what your reaction might be."

"I imagine our reaction wouldn't have mattered a tick, in the end, if I've judged your personality correctly," Narcissa said with a smirk.

Hermione chuckled. "I suppose not. But it's good to have your support regardless. And I know Draco is thrilled, if not a bit confused."

"Yes, well, we haven't always been the best parents to him," she said with a frown. "I know it's rather late, but I plan to start making it up to him."

"This is a good start," Hermione whispered, nudging Narcissa's shoulder with her own. The older woman smiled and winked at her.

"I'm glad you think so. At any rate, I'd best head upstairs, darling. It's going to be one of those long nights." Narcissa turned and walked gracefully back into the house.

Hermione was puzzled as to why the night was going to be particularly long, but decided that if Narcissa was making some kind of reference to her and Lucius's love life, she'd rather not know.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Draco was already in bed by the time Hermione headed back upstairs, and she took a minute to admire his naked torso as he lay reading against the headboard. It felt _so comfortable_ seeing him like this. Sharing a room, sharing a bed.

She remembered back to their first time together and shivered with delight. Yes, she could stand for a little more of that type of sharing, too.

"Hello," he said, smiling and putting his book down and dimming the light.

"Hello," she replied, dropping her housecoat on the ground and crawling into bed beside him. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that read "Mike's Moving Services" but had purposefully neglected to put any knickers on underneath. It was a bit bold, sure, but she was looking forward to the expression on Draco's face when he figured it out. Oh, she was so happy to have a proper bed tonight!

"That was an eventful day," she said, settling into the comfortable mattress.

"Fuck, was it ever," he said, running his hands through his shaggy hair. "Honestly Hermione, I'm not sure what to make of my parents. They... They actually seem sincere." Draco was obviously very troubled by the possibility.

"Yes, they do. And yes, it's strange. But if this is what they'll be like from now on... Honestly?" She shrugged. "I'm thrilled. I was half expecting them to murder me when I walked through that door."

"So was I," he said. "Hold on, how did you break the silencing charm that was supposedly so complex?"

"Oh, that," she grinned, patting his hand. "I've been unravelling the charms around Hogwarts since my first year. Some adorable muting spell isn't going to stop me at this point, even if it's five times stronger than the usual."

"Ah." Since _first year_? No wonder he never stood a chance against her in class. The little minx.

"Hey, Draco?"

"Yes Hermione?"

She leaned in and kissed him, quite through with chatting for the evening.

He wasted no time, pulling her astride him and marking her lips with his own with a growl. She sighed happily into his mouth, his tongue doing things that made her squirm with anticipation. She could already feel his erection pressing up between her legs through his pajama pants, making her wet within seconds.

_This is so much more fun than talking about muting spells._

As his hands wandered underneath her t-shirt, she felt him freeze.

"Love?" he murmured into her mouth.

"Mmm?"

"You're naked under this shirt."

"Mmmhmm."

"Bloody hell woman, you are an absolute miracle."

His fingers quickly dipped down between her legs and began teasing her wet folds, making her coo her approval. She raked her nails over his chest with a groan, leaving pink lines on his pale skin.

_More, more, more. Closer, closer, closer._

Two of his fingers slipped inside and she gasped, pressing herself further onto them and bucking her hips. He growled appreciatively at her enthusiasm, pumping his fingers in and out of her for a while, nudging her clit with his thumb and driving her mad with desire. She felt like a randy teenager, rubbing herself against him to get off.

_If the shoe fits. More, more, more._

"Hermione?" he said against her collarbone, his voice raspy and strained.

"Mmm?" Her hips were still moving against his fingers, and she didn't particularly want to stop.

"Want to try something with me?"

"Mmmhmmm..."

"I'm going to lie down, and I want you to straddle my face."

"What?" she said, pulling away slightly from his mouth. She wasn't a prude by a long shot, but the request was a bit surprising.

"My tongue, your pussy, you riding me. I want to taste you... All of you."

Without further explanation, he flattened out, waiting her for her follow his orders.

She nearly gaped.

_Well, when you put it like that..._

She had never positioned herself like that before, and shuffled around a bit before she was comfortable. In the end, she was straddling his mouth, as he requested, facing the direction of his feet. She lowered herself down slowly, unsure how it would feel to be putting herself over him like this.

All her doubts flew out the window as she heard him groan happily between her legs, sliding his tongue over her entrance and making her cry out.

"You taste incredible," he hummed before starting to lap at her wetness. Gods, it felt amazing. His hands reached up under he shirt to grasp her nipples, pinching them roughly.

"Oh!" she cried out. "Oh, Draco..."

She'd been pleasured this way before, but not in this position. It was far more arousing, she decided, to be straddling his face while his tongue went to work on her pussy. The view was better too, as she could see his entire body stretched out beneath her. She leaned forward slightly and pulled his pants down to expose his cock. Merlin, it was beautiful. She hadn't been able to see it before, since he entered her from behind. Now she was able to admire his hard, smooth length with the reverence it deserved.

The change in angle as she leaned forward gave him full access to her clit, and he lapped at it hungrily. "Hermione," he moaned between licks. "Bloody hell, you are delicious..."

She groaned.

_The man has a way with words._

She felt extremely exposed in this position, but the more he pleasured her, the less she seemed to care. A string of colourful curse words fell out of her mouth as she grappled with the sensation of his tongue on her most sensitive area, her legs shaking. She felt like she was slowly turning to liquid. No, she was turning to liquid. She was so bloody wet she was a quivering mess.

Dazedly, her attention turned back to his cock, and she decided to make the most of the position. With one quick movement, she grabbed the shaft, pumped it twice with her hand, and then slid her mouth over the head.

Draco stopped licking her pussy for long enough to cry out with pleasure. She happily pulled back and then engulfed his cock in her warm mouth again, taking it all the way to the back of her throat, and then out enough to let her lap at the head.

"Merlin Hermione! Holy fucking mother of - aaah, GODS!"

She repeated the pattern until he was mumbling incoherently against her clit, his tongue still working her spot expertly in between curse words. Her climax started to build, and her moans got louder as she rode him harder and harder. Suddenly, she felt the orgasm shoot up between her legs, and she convulsed against Draco's tongue with a hoarse cry. He licked her slowly as she came down, savouring her arousal with every pass of his tongue.

In her daze, she felt herself being flipped onto her back, and then Draco was on top of her, gorgeous and looming. With a swift movement, he spread her legs and drove himself into her.

"Beautiful," he said, pumping into her frantically. "So fucking beautiful." His rhythm was hard and unforgiving, but she loved being taken with complete abandon. She couldn't stop the cries that slipped out of her mouth, suddenly glad she had whispered a quick muffliato over their bed.

She pulled off her t-shirt as he slammed into her, and he was suddenly captivated, watching her breasts bounce wildly under his thrusts. He looked like he was rapidly losing control.

"Gods Hermione, I love you so damn much."

His pace increased even more, pistoning in and out of her, until she saw his eyes roll back and he screamed her name as he emptied himself into her.

He collapsed on top of her, panting, his face buried against her neck.

"I love you," he breathed, his voice completely raw. "I never want to be away from you. I don't want to scare you off Hermione, but Gods above, I want to be with you forever."

Hermione felt a warm glow spread from her chest outwards, reaching all the way down to her toes.

He wanted to be with her forever.

And she wasn't scared at all.

Why wasn't she scared?

_Because that's not a scary thought. Not in the least._

Draco had tensed up, nervously waiting for her to respond, clearly afraid that he had just fucked things up most royally. There must be some unspoken rule against blurting out your thoughts in the throes of an orgasm.

"I feel the same way," she said quietly, stroking his hair, knowing he needed to be calmed. "Don't worry... It's the same for me. Exactly the same, Draco."

Draco raised his head to meet her eyes. They both regarded each other seriously, unspoken promises thick in the air between them.

He leaned in and kissed her, softly and delicately.

She could taste herself on him and she thought it was one of the sexiest things she'd ever sampled.

They didn't discuss anything else that night, crawling under the covers together and wrapping their bodies in each other's warmth.

* * *

 

They both woke up to the annoying sound of Ron pounding on the door.

BANG BANG BANG

"Oi! You two! Wake up!"

Hermione groaned, and Draco muttered some very unflattering curse words into his pillow.

"Ron, since when are you such an early bird?" Hermione yawned. It couldn't have been later than 6am. What was he thinking? Was there an emergency?

"We've got a long day of planning ahead of us!" he shouted through the door.

She chided herself for not casting a longer silencing charm on the room. Maybe they could have slept a little longer before Ron figured it out.

"Bollocks!" Hermione yelled back. "Since when do you interrupt your beauty sleep for planning?"

"Since I woke up early by fluke, and mum refused to serve any breakfast until she gets to welcome Malfoy," he mumbled.

"Eh?" croaked Draco. "Really? She's torturing you with food, and she won't stop until I come down? Bloody brilliant!"

Hermione giggled, and Draco smiled at her. It had felt so good to share a proper bed with her last night. In fact, he wasn't interested in sleeping apart ever again. In the early days at the cave, when they were still sleeping back-to-back in the hammock, he had cursed the situation and wished for his own space. Now? He had a naked Hermione in his arms all night. There was really no comparison.

Draco's mind cleared slightly and he remembered another reason why he liked sharing a bed with her. He had woken up at around 3am to Hermione softly stroking between his legs, obviously trying to rouse him. He was hard as a rock. Then, without ceremony, she swung her leg over his hips and penetrated herself on his erection with a soft cry. She bounced on his cock for several minutes until she came, she throwing her head back and giving Draco the most stunning view of her breasts he'd even seen. He could feel her pussy convulsing around his length and it completely pushed him over the edge, errupting until he could see stars.

Yes, the perks were amazing. Everything was amazing. Hermione, especially. Who knew she was so enthusiastic in the sack?

Besides, she wanted to be with him forever. He felt fucking _high_ remembering her reassurances, and his own confession.

She was his. Bugger everything else... She was _his_.

BANG BANG BANG

"Are you two getting up or what? I'm not the only one awake... A few Order members are up too. She's not feeding them either." Ron was pouting. It was very clear from his tone of voice. Draco snorted.

"Oh!" Hermione said. "That changes things. Draco, shall we head down? We can shower after."

"Sure thing, love," he said cheerfully. He would agree to anything if it meant showering with Hermione.

They threw on their clothes, brushed their teeth, and wandered down the stairs hand in hand. Ron was waiting at the base of the stairs and rolled his eyes at them. His feet were back to normal - turns out Hermione had timed the spell.

"Honestly, you guys are so affectionate it's making me ill."

"Please Ron," Hermione scoffed. "We're just holding hands. We could be doing much, much worse." She shot a mischievous glance at Draco.

"Or much much better," Draco smirked.

"Blech, enough!" Ron whined, leading them to the kitchen.

Mad-Eye, Remus, Mrs. Weasley, Harry and Tonks were all sitting around the long kitchen table. They all looked grumpy.

"Oh, Draco and Hermione! Welcome!" said Mrs. Weasley with a beaming smile, walking to greet them with open arms. Hermione returned her embrace graciously, but Draco had never met this woman and had no idea how to respond. Mrs. Weasley took no notice and crushed him into a fierce hug. Hermione snickered at the shocked expression on Draco's face.

"Thank you for taking such good care of our Hermione," she whispered in his ear just before letting go.

"No problem," he choked out, certain she had cracked a rib.

"Okay everyone, breakfast is served! The sleepyheads will have to eat later." With a wave of her wand, the table was filled with food, and a collective sigh of appreciation rose into the air.

However, before anyone had a chance to pile the food onto their plates, the kitchen door flew open with such force that the table shook. A wide-eyed Lucius stood there, breathing heavily. He looked terrified.

"Narcissa is gone!" he shouted.

"What?" roared Mad-Eye.

"Oh dear!" said Mrs. Weasley. "What happened?"

"I don't know, I woke up and she wasn't there! I've checked the rest of the house. She's missing!"

For a man who prided himself on keeping his composure, he had obviously lost it completely. He looked like he was ready to either cry or murder someone. Perhaps both.

"Where could she have gone?" Hermione asked, worried. "I saw her just last night as she was getting ready to go to bed."

"Did anything seem out of the ordinary, Hermione?" asked Remus.

Hermione remembered Narcissa's comment about having a long night ahead of her, but decided against sharing it. She trusted Narcissa and didn't want anyone jumping to conclusions. She shook her head. "No, she was in good spirits."

"You don't think she's gone back to You-Know-Who, do you?" Harry asked, looking uneasy. "She knows an awful lot about the Order now."

"You ungrateful little swine!" Lucius shouted. "She would never do anything to endanger myself or her son, and by extension, your bloody Order! I swear, if I find out that any of you have harmed her..."

"Lucius, love, calm down. I'm right here."

Narcissa appeared in the doorway behind Lucius, looking perfectly lovely. She also looked like she had been on some sort of mission; her blonde hair was up in a tight bun, and she was wearing black pants instead of her usual evening dress. A black men's dress shirt was tucked into her waistband, and she had black leather boots on that came up to her knees. Her lips were a bright cherry red, making the whole ensemble quite dramatic. A dark bag was slung over her shoulder, hanging from her pale hand.

"Mother?" Draco said, completely confused. "You look like you've been hunting or... Pillaging or something."

"You could say that, darling," she said with a smirk that gave everyone in the kitchen chills.

"Cissa, I demand to know where you were! I was extremely concerned!" said Lucius, looking frazzled. The poor man had had quite enough of members of his family disappearing.

Narcissa leaned in and pecked him on the lips. "I'm sorry dear, but I couldn't really announce my plans in advance. I only decided on them last night, and there was no time to waste."

"Well?" barked Mad-Eye, clearly furious that she had snuck out under his watch. "Out with it, woman!"

She glared at him with a look of such distaste that Hermione could have sworn she saw Mad-Eye shrink back slightly. Now THAT was a feat.

"I was fetching a gift for Hermione," she said, calmly. Hermione and Draco's eyebrows shot up, and she sent a warm smile their way before resuming her cold glare.

"From where?" asked Lucius, suspiciously.

"The manor, darling."

"You're barmy if you think Hermione's going to open some gift from your bloody manor!" Harry said, angrily. He reached out his hand. "Give it here. We'll decide if it's safe for her to see."

Narcissa turned her cool gaze onto Harry, contemplating him for a moment.

"Mr. Potter. Hermione is not only the beloved of my son, but she is also brighter than anyone in this room. She is a fierce survivor. Your patronizing bravado is insulting to her intelligence."

Hermione's chest puffed out at the praise and Draco squeezed her hand. Nobody had ever said anything like that about her, and it was one hell of a defense. Harry deflated at the words, and Hermione and she wondered what on earth was up Narcissa's sleeve. The woman was sharp as a whip.

"Nonetheless, you are welcome to inspect the gift, if you so desire. It is, in a way, a gift for you too."

At those words, all the Order members drew their wands, and pointed them at the strange bag that Narcissa had placed on the table.

"It's... It's oozing something," said Ron, wrinkling his nose. Sure enough, a black sticky liquid was slowly leaking out of the bag and on to the tabletop.

Narcissa inspected her nails and sighed. "Yes, it tends to do that. Nasty thing."

"Let me, Harry," said Remus, gently pushing past Harry to get closer to the mysterious bundle. "Better me than you if it turns out to be dangerous."

Before Harry could object, Remus opened the bag and looked in.

"Is that... Is that Nagini's head?" he said with wonder.

Hermione gasped and tears stung her eyes. A huge smile crept across her face. "Narcissa!" she breathed, in awe. "You didn't!"

She then threw herself at the woman with a shriek, nearly knocking her down with the force of her embrace. Narcissa laughed and returned the hug while everyone in the room took turns peeking in the bag, looking revolted.

"She gave you a severed snake head? Yuck!" Ron said, not yet catching on.

"Mother," said Draco with a look of absolute shock on his face. He knew what this meant, but how had his mother known? And how had she managed it? "I don't understand. Please explain."

Narcissa turned back to the group, her arm tucked firmly around Hermione's waist. Draco felt his heart grow slightly at the sight. He had never, EVER imagined this – Narcissa Malfoy, infamous ice queen, joined at the hip to Hermione Granger. Judging by the shocked looks around the kitchen, he wasn't the only one. Potter and Weasley looked like they had swallowed lemons.

"Hermione and I had a little discussion last night wherein she confirmed to me that Nagini was the last horcrux," she began. "Yes, I know about them," she added, shooting a pointed look at Harry and Ron. "Inner circle nonsense and all that."

"Given that my behaviour has been far from exemplary these past few years, I decided to help her and Draco get closer to completing their mission. I knew how to access the manor without being detected. I also had a little help from this - " She pulled a long silver dagger out of a leather scabbard on her belt. Its hilt was encrusted with emeralds. "Slytherin's dagger. A bit of a treasure in our family. The metal was melted with fiendfire, and as such, it can destroy horcruxes. As you no doubt know, not many things do."

Narcissa turned towards Hermione and cupped her face fondly. "You see dear, Malfoy women are independent, resourceful and strong. We are not to be crossed, and when we need to protect our loved ones, we do it at any cost. You already have these traits, and you have more than proven yourself. You will make a brilliant Malfoy, darling, and I couldn't ask for a better addition to our family."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Draco's mouth dropped open. The mouths of everyone in the room dropped open. Ron said "Eh?"

Lucius looked pleased, and smirked at the crowd. It wasn't clear if he was smirking at Narcissa's comment, or at everyone's bug-eyed shock. Maybe he was just smirking for the hell of it.

Hermione found herself speechless.

A Malfoy?

_Her?_

She knew Narcissa liked her well enough, but this was a little extreme.

Or... Was it?

After what she and Draco had expressed last night, maybe it didn't seem as far fetched as it should. Despite the fact that they had only been together for a very short amount of time, she didn't find it strange to think that this might be a lifetime commitment. She didn't want to be away from him, he didn't want to be away from her. It only made sense

But to be a Malfoy? She hadn't really considered it from that perspective before.

There was the question of grace, etiquette, glamour and charm that she was missing, not to mention that whole pureblooded thing she was decidedly not. And of course, there was her hair. She was _sure_ Malfoys weren't supposed to have hair like hers. They were supposed to have hair that was spun from the tears of angels or something. It might as well be written into the bloody contract.

But if being a Malfoy meant she got to keep Draco, well, maybe she could be a Malfoy after all. No, scratch that, she _knew_ she could. She could do anything if it meant that she got to keep Draco.

 _Wait wait wait. Hold the fucking train._ Why was she worried? There was a crucial element missing here!

She was Hermione Granger, bossypants know-it-all who had a healthy appetite for re-writing the rules. If it came down to it, she could be a Malfoy however she damn wanted.

_Phew. Glad we got that sorted._

A slight pressure on her back made her turn her head, and suddenly Draco's lips were kissing her temple. He looked extremely emotional, a rare sight when in the company of others. He didn't seem to know what to make of his mother's statement either.

"Hold on," said Harry, squinting dazedly between the two women. "Do you really mean to say that you broke into the manor last night, took Slytherin's dagger and beheaded You-Know-Who's giant evil snake? Who also happens to be the last horcrux? And now you think of Hermione as being in your family?"

"Indeed dear," Narcissa said, kindly. She then turned to Hermione and Draco, whispering, "Poor soul... He is a bit dim, isn't he?"

"Well, that's bloody brilliant!" said Ron loudly, having finally caught on. "Mrs. Malfoy, you're a total badass!"

"She is, isn't she?" said Lucius, pulling his wife away from Hermione with a gleam in his eye. "You know I love it when you get all scary like that, my darling."

Narcissa giggled like a teenager and everyone in the room blanched. "Not now, Lucius," she chided. "I have to wash all the blood out of my clothes. These pants are silk, you know."

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Things moved very quickly after it became clear that all Voldemort's horcruxes were gone.

The Order went into hyper-planning mode, deciding how and when to infiltrate the manor and stage a final showdown with the current occupants. Meetings took place around the clock for the following two days, making the old house buzz with excitement. Eventually it became clear that one group would stick with Harry as he sought out Voldemort while everyone else rounded up the remaining Death Eaters. The idea was to catch the whole lot, culminating in the death of Voldemort and Harry's triumphant victory.

This is what had Hermione suddenly concerned.

She had always been an optimist about the outcome of the final battle. She trusted that Harry would destroy Voldemort and save the wizarding world.

But Hermione was also a realist, and she could see that in the excitement of the planning, the Order was overlooking a rather key possibility.

Harry may not survive the final battle.

Nobody really understood the true nature of his connection with Voldemort, and frankly, Hermione had always found the wording of that prophecy to be a little too vague for her comfort. While the Order was fussing about, dreaming of their glorious finish, Hermione was cradling this hidden terror in her chest that she was about to lose Harry forever. It made it hard to seem enthusiastic as everyone raved about the impending battle.

She knew she wasn't the only one who had fixated on the possibility, either.

Since Narcissa had brought back Nagini's head, and the truth had sunk in, Harry had been walking around the house in a dream-like state. He participated in the planning, of course, and talked excitedly with Ron about everything they would do after Voldemort was gone, but Hermione could see the doubt in his eyes. He _knew_. He knew it was just as likely that he would die as it was that he would survive. He just masked it as best he could and put on a happy face.

Hermione saw right through it. Ron had yet to notice, but he was always a bit slower to catch on to things like this. He usually needed things spelled out in order to deal with it properly.

It was with this knowledge that Hermione snuck away from the kitchen one morning and found Harry and Ron in the backyard, tossing a quaffle around while they waited for the next planning session to begin. Hermione silently warded the yard so they wouldn't be interrupted for a little while - she needed to talk to her friends alone.

"Harry? Ron? Could we chat for a minute?"

Harry turned his head sharply and the quaffle sailed past him. He looked worried, and Hermione realized that he knew she had figured him out.

"Shouldn't you be off with your beloved?" sniped Ron. Some days were better than others with him. It's like he alternated between being okay with Hermione's relationship to being childishly, dramatically jealous.

"I'm not in the mood, Ron," she sighed. "This is bigger than me and Draco. I'm asking you to back off on that for a moment so we can all talk. Can you do that?"

Ron looked a little guilty. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"Fair enough," she replied, relieved that he wasn't fighting her. "I appreciate the effort, though. Can we sit?" She gestured to the bench in the tiny garden, and they all made their way over. The boys sat on the bench while Hermione sat on the large rock facing them.

Then she hesitated.

Her plan had really only gotten this far, she realized with surprise. She figured it would be harder to get them alone, and had only mapped out different possibilities for cornering them. Now she had to articulate a lot of very heavy emotions in one go.

_Fuck. Brilliant witch, my ass. I should have scripted this out or something._

Harry saved her the trouble, noticing her awkwardness and jumping into the fire.

"I think I know what's on your mind, Hermione," he said, quietly.

Ron was still out of the loop, and looked between them, confused.

"Is this one of those situations where you guys are all emotional and deep and I have no idea what you're on about?" he asked. Hermione looked startled by his honestly. Maybe Ron was learning a thing or two about communication, after all.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Hermione would like to talk to us about the possibility that I might die in the final battle."

Ron froze. He looked about ready to argue, and then his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I had been wondering about that too," he whispered. "I just didn't want to bring everyone down."

Hermione had intended to take a deep breath and start contributing to the conversation, but the breath was unexpectedly shaky, and suddenly she was sobbing uncontrollably. She felt deeply ashamed that she couldn't hold it together - what about how Harry was feeling? It was _his_ life that was in danger, but she didn't _him_ crying like a child over it! Still, she couldn't stop the flood that started when she let out that first tear. The dam was gone. She was a fucking river now.

Within seconds, both boys had taken up station on either side of her, their arms wrapped around her and their voices comforting.

"I'm... I'm sorry," she stuttered as two sets of hands rubbed her back and smoothed out her hair. "I don't know what's gotten into me... I just... We've been thinking about horcruxes for so long, and now that they're gone, there's all this other stuff I had been avoiding. I mean, Harry, what if you don't survive? We don't know what's going to happen. We don't know what's waiting there for you. But nobody's talking about it, and I've been so worried... I can't imagine my life without you. Either of you. And it's all just so close, and so serious..."

She dissolved into tears again. Since Harry and Ron found out about her relationship with Draco, they had been distant and strange with her, perhaps simply unsure about where they stood in her life. It was incredibly comforting to have them with her again, treating her with the care they used to. Even if she was a blubbering mess, dripping all over their clothes.

"I'm sorry," she hiccuped. "I'll try to calm down."

"Would it be bad to say that I'm actually glad to see you were so worried about me?" Harry said with a cheeky smile. His eyes were sad, but at least he was attempting humour.

"Oh God, Harry, I hope you're joking," she said, wiping her cheeks. "I know we haven't talked about this much, but just because I'm with Draco, it doesn't mean I love either of you any less. I'm not saying that to massage your egos - I mean it."

Harry and Ron shared a smile, obviously pleased by her words.

"In fact," she continued, "The night Draco saved my life, I had run off into the woods because I was so distraught about you both. Met a snatcher there, almost didn't return, but I digress... You two were always on my mind. I had nightmares every night about you. Draco didn't mention them, but he heard everything. You were always in my thoughts."

"Hmm, poor Malfoy," said Ron, feigning thoughtfulness, tapping his chin with his finger. "His woman is always thinking of two other men, saying their names in her sleep... Maybe I _should_ be a little nicer to the bloke. It's gotta hard to compete with us." He grinned widely at Hermione, who let out a watery laugh.

"Not too far from the truth, actually," she said, smiling. "He knows that if he wants to be in my life, he will always have you two to contend with."

"Well, I think that proves one thing," said Harry. Hermione and Ron raised their eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "He obviously loves you immensely. Because he definitely hates our guts, and if he's willing to deal with us for your sake, he's damn dedicated."

Hermione smiled quietly. "Yeah. Yeah, it's pretty wild, honestly."

"We really are happy for you, 'Mione," Harry said, gently. "It was weird at first, but Malfoy's actually not a bad guy. I mean, there's the fact that he destroyed a horcrux, and not for selfish reasons, either... That's boggling. But he's also been helping with the planning, giving us details about the manor that we would never known otherwise. It's more than just helpful - it will mean the difference between life and death, in a lot of cases. That, and the way he looks at you..." Harry looked down down, a bit embarrassed. "Well, let's just say that Ron and I don't need to worry about being your 'big brother' protectors anymore. I think he would hang anyone that tried to harm you."

"Hang them, set them on fire, and then feed the ashes to the Giant Squid," Ron added. "And then kill the squid for good measure."

"Come on you two!" Hermione laughed.

"Uh, 'Mione, we're not kidding," said Ron, looking at her a bit uncomfortably. "Malfoy is nuts about you. I honestly pity anyone who faces his wrath. He's a little... Unhinged sometimes."

"Gets it from his mother," said Harry, grinning. "Who, by the way, might as well have married you two right there in the kitchen, the way she was talking. Who would have thought that Narcissa Malfoy would come to see you as a daughter, Hermione? Barmy, isn't it?"

"Pretty crazy, although I should tell you both... It doesn't seem as impossible as it should," she said, shyly. It had been two days since Narcissa's little monologue in the kitchen, and although her and Draco hadn't discussed it directly, it had stayed on Hermione's mind.

"We know, 'Mione," said Ron, fondly. "We can tell this isn't a passing thing."

"Really? Merlin, I guess I had no idea what you two felt about any of this."

"We're your best friends," said Harry. "We love you, we trust you, and we're adapting. Right Ron?"

"Right," said Ron with a nod.

"Oh bother, now I've gotten us all off track..." said Hermione, frowning. "This wasn't why I wanted to talk to you guys, as helpful as it's been."

"Well, as for the outcome of the final battle... I'm going to hope for the best and fight You-Know-Who the whole way. I'm not giving up easily," said Harry, surprisingly calm, now. "Not that I intend to die, but I have two amazing best friends and enough adventure to last me a lifetime. If I go out on that note, I guess it could be worse." Seeing Hermione's distraught expression, he rushed to repeat, "Not that I intend to die! I just, well, I love you both and I want to be around to get older with you. Raise our families and all that. So that will be my motivation when I'm facing him down."

"Plus mate, at this rate, you'll need to be attending a wedding at some point in the future..." Ron said with a wink towards Hermione.

Hermione blushed and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Don't worry 'Mione," Harry teased. "If it happens, I'm sure you'll revolutionize Malfoy name in no time. Freeing house elves, burning etiquette books and tossing mountains of hair care products... All on your first day!"

Hermione snorted with laughter and swatted him upside the head with a loud SMACK. "Rude!" she admonished, jokingly.

It was good to have her boys back.

* * *

 

Draco had noticed Hermione's worried expression everytime an Order member talked about Harry's eventual confrontation with the Dark Lord. At first he pegged it was understandable nervousness, but eventually realized why she was so concerned. Harry could die. _Of course_.

He had planned to ask her about it, give her a chance to vent, but she had been off in her own world. As much as he wanted to comfort her, he could tell she was just working things out for herself. He would leave it be unless she wanted to talk to him about it, although he guessed that she would be more likely to talk it through with Potter and Weasley first. It grated a little, to think that he couldn't help her, but he trusted that she would tell him if she needed to spill.

In the meantime, he had some talking to do as well, but with another woman altogether.

"Mother?" he said, standing in the doorway of his parents' room. His father was downstairs teaching Mad-Eye how to get past certain enchantments at the manor, so his mother was alone, looking out the window with a serene expression on her face.

"Hello darling," she said, warmly, turning towards him.

She was dressed in her black formal robes again, having eventually burned the silk pants because the sheer amount of Nagini's blood "would have simply taken too long to wash out without the aid of a house elf." Draco made the mistake of asking why the beheading had caused such a mess, to which she had answered that the "tricky" part had actually been cutting Nagini's body into small pieces and scattering them around the woods afterwards. Just to be thorough.

Draco had nearly lost his lunch. Ron, who had overheard Narcissa's explanation, said she was "the coolest" and walked off in a happy daze.

"What can I do for you, dear?" Narcissa asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat and stepping into the room. "I wanted to ask you about what you said to Hermione the other day. I haven't had a chance to come speak to you about it, with all the planning going on..." He trailed off uncomfortably.

The truth was that he was completely flummoxed by his parents' reaction to Hermione. His mother had welcomed Hermione like a daughter, and his father? Well, his father went out of his way to talk to her, bantering back and forth in between meetings, always ending with Hermione coming up with a clever zinger that Lucius had no way of responding to.

Which made Lucius _happy_. He was actually happy to be outsmarted by Hermione, chuckling about how she always gave him a "run for his money." Lucius Malfoy, formerly the most anti-Muggle-born wizard in all of England, minus a certain psychopathic Dark Lord.

Mild affection was one thing, but Lucius _adored_ her.

Draco felt like he was living in an alternate reality which was destined to implode at any moment. _Violently._

"Let me guess. You are wondering how it is that your father and I are so fond of her, given our history and prior beliefs. You are also wondering why I said that she would make a fine Malfoy, in front of the Order, no less. And you are probably worried that there's a catch somewhere."

Draco let out a groan and sat down in the plush chair in front of his mother. She always could read him like a book.

"Yeah. Something like that."

She took a seat across from him and put her hand over his.

"Well son, we are fond of her because she is a wonderful woman who is beautifully suited to you. As for why I said she would make a fine Malfoy..."

She paused to catch Draco's eye, looking at him seriously.

"I said it because it's absolutely true. Your father and I are quite done with Pureblooded ideology, considering where it's gotten us. Consider this: that same ideology nearly lost us our son, our heir, and everything we have worked for. It nearly ended the Malfoy line. I think you falling in love with a Muggle-born is much less serious than that, wouldn't you say? Especially one as bright as Hermione. The reason I said it in front of everyone is because they had better get used to the idea now, so they don't give her grief about it later. Hermione is very special to them, and they still aren't sure what to make of us. The sooner they work this out and get used to it, the better. There is no catch."

Draco swallowed heavily. "So you really want us to get married? I mean... It's rather soon, don't you think?"

Narcissa regarded him thoughtfully. "If you love each other the way I suspect you do, I believe you will get married because you cannot bear the thought of ever being apart. I suspect Hermione would die to protect you, and I think you would do the same for her. This is not a mere crush, Draco. This is a life bond. In fact, marriage or not, I feel that Hermione is already part of our family. Your connection is that strong. Marriage is a formality at this point. It could happen tomorrow, or it could happen years from now. Now the question is, are my suspicions correct?"

Draco nodded solemnly. The idea of someday calling Hermione his wife almost made him feel giddy, but he had been pushing away those thoughts to be able to focus on the impending battle. He still hadn't amped up the courage to ask Hermione's opinion on what his mother had said, either. Becoming a Malfoy is a little more daunting than your average union. Becoming a Malfoy when your name is Hermione Granger? Fucking complicated. That, and the relationship was so new to both of them. It didn't _feel_ new, not really, but it was. Did that even count for something at this point?

"Excellent," said Narcissa with a smile. "In that case, I should probably tell you that I didn't only go back to the manor to massacre Nagini, although that was a truly enjoyable perk."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. He had wondered if his mother had told everyone the full story when she came back from the manor that morning. Disturbing bloodlust in his mother's comment aside, he was deeply curious about what she was hiding.

Narcissa reached into her robes and pulled out a velvet pouch. Emptying the contents into her hand, she held them aloft for Draco to see. They were two gold rings, one wider than the other, each set with a large emerald in the center. The smaller ring had the emerald nestled in a bed of tiny diamonds.

"These are the Malfoy ancestral rings," she said. "The ones your father and I wear are more decorative, but these are the rings that engaged and married us so many years ago. They have been in the family for hundreds and hundreds of years. The ore and jewels were mined in a region known for its natural bonding and protective magic, and as such, they offer these qualities to the couple wearing them."

She carefully placed the rings in Draco's hand. "Whenever you judge the time to be right, son, these are for you to use. I am thrilled that you and Hermione found each other. She is truly a remarkable girl."

Draco gathered his mother into a hug for the second time in almost as many days, and held her tightly.

"She's quite fond of you, you know," he said, quietly.

"She and I are both forces to be reckoned with," Narcissa said lightly. "I think mutual affection is quite natural."

"She wanted to put Nagini's head on a stick to help everyone stay focused on their goals in battle. Potter and Weasley talked her out of it."

"Those boys have no sense of fun," she sniffed. "Our Hermione has the right idea, as always. Nothing focuses the mind like a head on a stick, as the saying goes."

Draco nodded in agreement, secretly wondering who coined that "saying." He couldn't imagine anyone actually using the phrase.

Other than perhaps his mother and the love of his life.

He pushed the morbid image out of his mind and focused instead on the weight of the two rings in his hand, humming with old magic.

* * *

 

The battle was to take place the following morning.

As the inhabitants of 12 Grimmauld Place got ready for bed, a mix of excitement, fear, and downright nervousness settled on the old house. Hermione had always gotten bad nerves, and hated the familiar twisting and flipping of her stomach, nearly sending her to heave up her dinner. Usually she felt this way before exams. Seemed so trivial now, given what she was preparing for.

She had arranged another quick meeting with Harry and Ron, where they all hugged, cried, and promised to be careful. As careful as one can be, facing the most dangerous wizard in the world.

She had to stop thinking about it that way.

The plans were set. Three teams: one to stay with Harry while he sought out Voldemort, one to take the east wing and main area, where apparently most of the Death Eaters stayed, and one to take the west wing and dungeons. The east wing team was the largest, given the sheer number of Death Eaters they were likely to encounter. The west wing team included Narcissa and Lucius, because they knew how to free people from the dungeons, and because they would likely be a liability on other teams given their high profile as defectors.

Lucius would change the wards seconds before the teams attacked. This would give the Death Eaters less time to react if the breach was noticed.

Then all hell would break loose.

Hermione and Draco had refused to be split up, and so were placed on the east wing team. They both knew how to fight viciously, and were happy with the assignment. They had spent several hours that afternoon brushing up on their combat skills, sharing a few spells they had learned over the years and shooting them with terrifying accuracy. Lucius and Narcissa had watched some of their practice from the kitchen window, and after witnessing Hermione execute a perfect fireball hex, which singed the brick of the house, Lucius smiled fondly and called her his "little firestarter."

Mad-Eye, who overheard the comment, rolled his magic eye and muttered that the "world had gone fucking nutty." He had never _ever_ seen the infamous Lucius Malfoy so soft over a girl, except for maybe Narcissa. It was disturbing.

Dinner was a blur, and soon, it was nightfall.

Hermione crawled into bed first, plopping a thick text on her lap, determined to read up a little more on defensive spells before she collapsed. She was so tired from practice that her eyelids were barely staying open, but she wasn't about to let her last five minutes of reading time go to waste. Who knew what would happen tomorrow? She had to be ready.

Luckily, Draco walked into the room right as those five minutes were winding down, just in time to catch Hermione's head as it fell forward into the giant book.

"Love, I think you're doing more harm that good at this point," he said, gently extricating the book from Hermione's hands. "You're exhausted. Let's sleep. I'm sure you want to be well-rested for tomorrow, yeah?"

Hermione nodded sleepily as Draco crawled in next to her.

_She's so damn adorable when she's tired._

"How are you feeling about tomorrow?" she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder.

"As well as can be expected, I imagine," he said, stroking her arm, face, hair... Anywhere he could reach without disturbing her. "I'm worried about everyone's safety, of course, particularly yours and my parents'. But the manor is my childhood home, and I know my way around. Hopefully I can take down some of the degenerates who've been squatting there in the process."

Hermione nodded against him, her breathing becoming heavy.

Draco knew he had been babbling, but he didn't really want to talk about the battle. He wanted to ask Hermione about what his mother had said, find out how she felt about the idea. He had been rehearsing it all in his head, hoping he'd have the guts to talk to her about it before the fighting began. His heart sank, though, as he snuck a glimpse at her... She was already drifting off. By morning, they would leave for the manor, too stressed to think about anything else. The more Draco thought about his conversation with his mother, the more he realized that he didn't want to wait. He wanted Hermione to wear his ring. If she was ready for it, so was he. But he had to tread carefully... He didn't want to make any assumptions about what she wanted. Understandably, she might think he was moving too fast. That said, she certainly didn't seem put off by his confession the other night...

_Hermione, would you ever consider becoming a Malfoy?_

"Love, are you awake?" he asked, gently.

_What I'm saying is, will you marry me?_

"Love?"

He sighed, the rings heavy in his pocket, still humming with power. She was fast asleep.

_I love you, Hermione. Please be safe tomorrow._

 


	14. Chapter 14

As expected, the morning was an absolute mad rush.

Everyone woke by 5 am, dressed by 5:15 am, and finished breakfast by 5:30 am. Then, split up and crowding around the various portkeys that Remus had made the night before, they travelled to the grounds outside the manor, hidden by the tree cover.

"Right," barked Mad-Eye, as quietly as he could while still sounding like an octogenarian pirate. "You know the plan. Lucius here will change the wards to let us all apparate into our respective areas. Apparate with your team, complete your mission, and then go to help the others. When all else fails, fight like hell. Just stick to your team, protect each other, and we'll show those bastards what we're made of. They outnumber us significantly, and I do mean significantly, so please don't pull any of that 'showing mercy' crap if your life is in danger. They will be trying to kill you. Don't delude yourselves."

Everyone nodded solemnly, and Mad-Eye walked over to Lucius and Narcissa to prepare the wards. It would take a few minutes to complete.

Draco was so nervous, he felt sick. No, he was beyond feeling sick now. His hands were shaking, he was paler than usual and he felt a panic attack of epic proportions coming on. His breaths were coming in deep, uneven gulps and he was dizzy to the point of swaying unsteadily on his feet. The rings were heating up in his pocket.

Hermione noticed, alarmed, and grabbed him by the arms.

"Draco, you're not well!" she whispered, her eyes wide and worried. "What's going on? Have you caught something? Merlin, I should have given you a strength draught this morning... I don't know how it escaped my mind..."

"No," he rasped. "It's not that. I haven't caught something... It's just..."

He glanced over at his parents. They were only just beginning the process - he still had time.

He grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her outside the circle of Order members.

"What's going on, Draco?" she said, her eyes welling up. "You're scaring me. Are you okay? If you're ill, I don't want you to - "

"Marry me," he whispered.

Her mouth dropped open.

"What?" she said, dumbly.

"Marry me," he said again. "Hermione, I love you. I don't know what's going to happen in there, and I don't want to march into battle without asking you. You are the love of my life. I don't know why you gave me a chance, but you did, and I've never been more thankful. Let me show you how much you mean to me. Let me spend my life showing you. I'm yours, Hermione."

He dropped to his knees, the dizziness taking its toll, and her grip on his arms tightened.

He slid one arm out of her grasp, knowing he was running out of time. Fishing the two rings out of his pocket, he pulled them out, and heard her gasp.

"I wanted to ask you last night, before all the madness started, but... Well... Here I am. Asking you now. These are the Malfoy ancestral rings, Hermione. My mother got them from the manor when she went back for Nagini. This one is yours," he said, holding up the smaller band as it sparkled in the dawn light. "It's yours, if you'll have it. If you'll have me."

He looked at her now. She had an expression of total shock on her face, trying to grapple with the immensity of the situation.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father begin the last incantation of the ward change.

"Will you have me, Hermione?" he asked, scared now that he had done too much, too soon. She was too surprised. She didn't know how to respond. They would be thrown into battle without a chance to resolve this.

With a small shiver of consciousness, her vacant expression disappeared, and she threw herself at him, knocking him backwards.

"Of course," she cried, quietly. "I'll marry you. I'm yours. I've always been yours. I love you, Draco."

She kissed him so sweetly, he nearly forgot where he was, seconds away from the final battle. Nearly.

He let out a shaky breath and pulled away reluctantly, a huge smile on his face and tears in his eyes. She was going to marry him. Hermione was going to be his wife.

_She's always been mine. She will always be mine._

"We don't have much time, love," he said, slipping the ring onto her finger. "You've made me so happy. We'll talk more after the battle."

"What about yours?" she said, sniffling, her cheeks wet. She took the larger ring out of his hand, and slipped it onto his finger.

They both gasped as the ancient magic shot through them, starting at the rings and then racing into their bodies. It felt like a strong, commanding pulse, like a battle drum had set up in their hearts.

"Oh my God," she breathed, staring at her finger. "How old are these rings?"

"Ten seconds until we apparate!" Mad-Eye shouted, cutting through the din.

"Hermione, I love you," Draco said, desperation in his voice, pulling both of them up and stumbling back to the group.

"I love you too. I love you too," she said, kissing him quickly and running her hands over his face.

"Just stay close to me. We're on the same team. As long as we stay together, we'll be okay," he said, locking eyes with her.

"NOW!" shouted Mad-Eye, and the Order of the Phoenix disappeared from the woods.

* * *

 

Except nothing was okay.

Apparition happens so quickly, it's nearly impossible to know if something has gone wrong with the process until it's too late. And yet, in that split second of uncomfortable swirling, Hermione knew. She could feel the enchantment scrambling her destination, and she realized, with gnawing terror, what what happening.

_Displacement charm. Oh my fucking God. We didn't plan for this._

Lucius may have adjusted the wards to let the Order through, but the charm, set up by the other side, would ensure that nobody landed where they wanted. It would also make sure that everyone landed alone, split up from whoever else was supposed to arrive there. A small precaution in their part which, in this case, worked brilliantly. Much to the dismay and probable death of the Order.

Hermione landed and threw up a shield charm instantly, knowing she would not be where she had planned. It was unecessary, as it turned out, for she had landed in the deserted library.

 _How fitting,_ she thought, grimly. _The universe certainly has a sense of humour._

Very faintly, she could make out angry cries and explosions somewhere else in the mansion.

_I need to find the group... I need to find Draco!_

She took off in the direction of the door, determined to make this right somehow. They had put too much on the line to fail now. There was a manor full of Death Eaters to contend with, Voldemort to kill, and her beloved was somewhere in the mess of it.

She listened quickly at the door before throwing it open, and despite the precaution, was still thrown backwards with the force of a violent spell.

 _Precaution only gets you so far, I suppose_ , she thought dazedly as her body sailed into an oak bookcase. She landed hard on the ground, and heard heavy footsteps walk into the library.

No, not walk. _Swagger_.

_The true mark of an inflated ego._

"Hello, little Mudblood. Come out to play with the big boys?" The voice was familiar to her. Grating. Sneering. _Mulciber_. Oooh, she detested him.

"Down on the ground where you belong. At least you know your place."

Hermione hadn't moved since she landed, playing dead. Well, playing _injury_. It would take more than a run-in with a bookcase to kill her. Bookcases were usually quite fond of her, overall.

_Come on Mulciber. A little closer. Underestimate me, you sad little man._

"Been wondering where you've been hiding, Mudblood. How nice of you to offer yourself up to us like this. Finally realized it was pointless to resist, huh?"

He was so close now. She could see his scruffy black boots through the curtain of her hair. Hermione quite enjoyed the fact that so many Death Eaters loved to brag before they started torturing people. It was almost endearing. Especially when it nearly always led to her being able to turn the tables before they were done shooting off at the mouth. _Hilarious, actually_.

"I'm very much going to enjoy fucking you before I kill you, filthy girl," he said, his tone taking on a nastiness that susprised even her.

_That's quite enough of that._

With the swiftest of movements, Hermione pointed her wand at his foot and cast a silent petrificus totalus. She knew it had worked instantly as the oaf of a man toppled backwards, a look of frozen shock on his face.

She stood up calmly, and made a small show of arranging her robes and smoothing out her hair.

"Actually, Mulciber, you won't be fucking anyone. Ever again." She said it so sweetly, she was sure she saw the confusion mounting in his eyes. "I've invented a lovely little hex for rapists like yourself, Mulciber. Guess what it does?"

His pupils dilated with terror.

"Oh! How silly of me. I forgot you can't speak. Well, I guess I'll just tell you anyway. Let's just say that you won't be getting your little 'friend' up at any point in the future. Not that you'll need to in Azkaban, but one never knows. Stranger things have happened!"

She pointed her wand at his groin and said the incantation without a speck of remorse. It was no bluff - she had invented the hex after being attacked three separate times with the promise of a violent rape, once by Mulciber himself. Although she had always managed to fight them off, usually with the help of Harry and Ron, she decided that using her skills to be vindictive was okay in this instance. It was a worthy cause, and it's not like she used it often.

Besides, this was war. She would have fought Mulciber to the death if necessary, but this was surprisingly more fun.

If he were able to, she was sure Mulciber would be screaming at the burning sensation that was working its way through his body, ending with his now-useless dick. _Poor little Death Eater_.

Then she bound him, tied him to a column in the far corner of the room, and cast a camouflaging charm over his body.

"I'm the only one who knows where you are, Mulciber," she said, sweetly once again. "I'll come back for you when this is all over, providing the manor doesn't burn down. Oh, and Mulciber? _Brightest witch of my age_ ," she finished with a whisper, tapping her head and winking knowingly.

As she calmly walked out of the library, surprised at how good it felt to flaunt her cleverness, just this once... She wondered if that made her a naughty bookworm or simply a good Malfoy.

_Both. Definitely both._

* * *

 

Draco did not have Hermione's split second of foresight, too out of sorts from the proposal and the overwhelming mix of joy and fear he felt immediately after. Joy because Hermione had said yes. Fear because they both had to survive the battle in order to be married.

And, much to his terror, he did not land at the planned location, nor did he land in an abandoned library.

He landed in front of Bellatrix, in his father's study. Alone. Disoriented. Not with his team, and not with his love.

Before he could even process the change, he was bound and wandless, his furious aunt looming over him.

_Fuck. Me. This is going to be the shortest engagement in the history of the Malfoy family._

He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream at the indignity of it all. His life had finally turned around and he gets dropped in front of _Bellatrix_? The most violent and twisted Death Eater of the bunch? Someone who knew about his betrayal and was ready to make him pay as painfully as possible? There was no denying it; he was scared. He was extremely skilled in combat, but it's hard to fight back when you're bound, panicked and wandless.

_Hermione. I have to get out of this for Hermione._

He frantically wracked his brain for an out, some sort of a plan, anything to get away before she destroyed his mind. And she would, he knew that much. Rendering people blubbering and insane was her favourite thing in the world, and Draco had seen her do it to a wide variety of prisoners that had been brought through the manor.

_I can't believe I ever wanted to be like that._

"Oh, my pathetic little nephew," she sneered, advancing. "This _is_ a surprise. I guess that handy displacement charm was worth the effort after all. Thought your useless Order could outsmart the Dark Lord, did you?"

She cackled, her eyes deranged, her face gaunt and pale. Deep shadows hung under her eyes and cheekbones - she seemed almost otherworldly. While her sanity had been in question for most of her life, she finally looked the part. Bellatrix was not well.

Draco didn't even have a chance to respond.

"Let's get straight to business, shall we, my little traitor? I'll question you about the stolen horcrux after I've had some fun."

The strength of the _Cruciatus_ depends on the will of the caster. As such, Draco could probably not have been more dangerously matched than he was with Bellatrix. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to make him howl with pain. She wanted him so broken he couldn't remember his own name.

All of that came through the curse. Draco's blood felt like liquid fire, his lungs like acid, his skin like it was being dragged through broken glass. There was pain he couldn't identify, it was at a level so beyond anything he'd ever experienced, it made his soul scream. He knew the _Cruciatus_. He'd been tortured with it before. But nobody knew the curse like his aunt.

His shattered screams rose up through the room while Bellatrix continued, unrelenting. _Smiling_.

It's nearly impossible to think clearly when being tortured under the curse, but one small thought leaked out of Draco's mind as he convulsed and shrieked on the ground.

_I'm not going to survive this._

Bellatrix was too angry. She was going to overdo it. She was going to kill him with the curse. He could feel it building.

His sadness seeped through the pain. He wouldn't get to marry Hermione after all. His parents would be childless, after he had finally gotten to know the true strength of their character. One could only hope that Potter would kill Voldemort and make this all mean something, but what if he didn't? It seemed like the world was falling apart.

_I hope Potter takes care of her. And Weasley. They won't let anything happen to her._

The curse stopped abruptly with a loud yell, and Draco's eyes snapped open to find the source. What he saw made his jaw drop.

Ron Weasley had kicked open the door and disarmed Bellatrix. He looked furious, all bulk and force and _actual fucking skill_... He was currently in the process of magically bludgeoning her to death. Shocked screams rose up from her mouth, as one of her legs broke, and then her arm, and angry burns started traveling over her pale skin.

"You will not -" seethed Ron, knocking her backwards.

"Leave my best friend -" he snapped her ankles a quick spell.

"Without the love of her life, you sick bitch. Avada Kedavra!"

Bellatrix was no more, slumped on the ground in a bruised pile of broken limbs.

Draco would have cheered, had he any strength left. As it was, he was only able to wheeze, "Weasley, you are fucking brilliant."

Ron was at his side in an instant, rummaging through his robes and pulling out a small bottle. He gently cradled Draco's shaking body, lifting his head and poured the liquid into his mouth.

"Drink," he said, kindly. "'Mione made it. For emergencies. You know how she is."

Draco obeyed, and as the cool mixture slid down his throat, he felt his head clear. The shaking lessened, slowly, and then stopped.

He gazed up at Ron, actually taking in the features of the man he'd hated for so long. Why did he hate him again? Because of his last name? The red hair? The uncompromising, unwavering loyalty he had for his friends?

_God, I've been stupid._

"Ron, I'm so sorry I've been such a fucking prat," Draco said, quietly. "It all seems rather ridiculous now."

"You called me Ron!" he said, cheerfully. "That might actually be weirder than me murdering Bellatrix to save your arse."

"I... I don't know how to thank you," Draco stammered. "Anything you want. Honestly. I thought I was a goner."

"Just invite me to the wedding," Ron said with a wink, eyeing Draco's finger. "Congrats mate. I was wondering why you two were crying and rolling around on the ground a few seconds before the battle was supposed to start."

"Fuck yeah, you're coming to the wedding," Draco said, grinning. His head was swimming, his body aching, but he was _alive_.

"Look, not to cut this bonding session short, but people are dying out there... Shall we make a move out of here?"

"Indeed," Draco said, taking Ron's offered hand as he pulled him up. "What's the new plan?"

"The new plan is fight like hell. All set?"

"Absolutely."

 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Draco and Ron stepped out of the study into a battle zone, and began racing down hallways to try and find Harry and Hermione. The Order's carefully-crafted plans had dissolved into anarchy, with fighters on both sides attacking ferociously wherever they happened to be. _Avadas_ were being tossed around like they were household charms.

Remus had been killed, and Tonks was out of her mind with grief. She had taken out ten Death Eaters in a blazing, sobbing fury and was currently advancing on Crabbe senior, looking possessed.

Arthur Weasley was dueling Rowle with a scary determination that few people had seen on his face before. His leg was dripping blood out of a huge gash in his thigh - Draco could swear he saw a hint of bone in the carnage.

Mad-Eye had lost a hand. He didn't seem troubled... He had staunched the bleeding somehow, wrapped up the stump, and was currently dueling two Death Eaters with a terrifying grin on his face.

Tonks had now killed eleven Death Eaters and was sobbing in a corner, screaming her lover's name.

Draco and Ron were pounding down the hallway that lead to the main ballroom. It seemed like a decent guess that Voldemort would want the battle to take place in the grandest room at the manor. If he wasn't there, well, they would have to guess again. The original plan was in ruins, after all.

The ballroom's doors were open, and the boys could hear shouting inside. With their wands out, they charged in.

Now, Draco had always been proud to be a Malfoy. The name commanded a mix of respect, fear, and power that most old wizarding families could only dream of. Particularly power, or so he had been told. He had caught glimpses of this elusive Malfoy power as a boy and during his years at school, but the true meaning was lost on him until now.

As such, nothing could have prepared him for the rush of pride he felt when he ran into the ballroom and saw his parents fighting an unfairly large crowd of Death Eaters.

Gone was the Lucius Malfoy who had gushed over Hermione like a sweet, parternal, adoring father-in-law. The man in his place was a terrifying fighter, all elegance, stature, and cold fury. He was taking down groups of Death Eaters like a king at a beheading - this was his castle, and he would slaughter the inhabitants if he so desired. His long silver hair flowed down his back, making his commanding posture and his impeccable dueling seem all the more dramatic and sinister. He was destroying them with horrifying grace, unperturbed by the growing pool of blood on the floor, caused by his wand work.

Narcissa, on the other hand, was the embodiment of ferocity. Stunningly beautiful, snarling like a panther, she was crushing Death Eaters like ants. Her spells were dark, deadly accurate, and were wiping out handfuls of her foes at once. Her victims, when compared with those of her husband, seemed to be in staggering pain for much longer before they died. Judging by the wicked smile on her face, she preferred it that way.

"Your mother is my fucking hero," said Ron, and Draco grinned as they threw themselves into the fray.

"Do you fancy my mother, Ron?" Draco said, teasingly as he knocked out a Death Eater who had some to greet them. It felt so good to be dueling again. This was going to be fun.

"Won't deny it," Ron replied, a cheeky smile on his face, destroying another Death Eater with a curse that seemed to crush the man's chest.

Ron fought like a brute, using spells that had the same effect as bashing someone's face in with a rock. Draco thought it was a very fitting style for Ron, and told him so.

"Thank you, Draco," said Ron, breaking another man's legs. "It means a lot to me that you appreciate my finesse and my delicate moves."

"Oh, and you have a sense of humour?" Draco snickered. "Where have you been hiding that all this time?"

"Is it too soon in our friendship to say 'in your mother'?"

Draco guffawed and shot another hex into the crowd. The spells were coming back to him faster and faster, and he felt like a fucking hurricane. _Malfoy power, suckers_. "It will always be too soon in our friendship to use that line."

"No matter. It's just wishful thinking anyway," Ron replied with a happy shrug.

"Wishful for what?" said Narcissa, who was suddenly fighting beside them. "Hello son, Ronald."

Ron's attention wavered for a second, which was long enough for an angry-looking female Death Eater to cast a noose charm around his neck. To Draco's horror, Ron started to turn blue as the magical rope tightened.

Narcissa snapped her fingers once, and the rope disappeared. She snapped them again, and it reappeared around the throat of the very surprised Death Eater.

"Not yours, Talulah," she chided. "Don't touch."

She then turned her back on the scene, and continued to fight as if nothing had happened, leaving Talulah to choke to death under the weight of her own spell.

"Bloody hell," Ron rasped, only taking a second to catch his breath before continuing to duel.

The Death Eaters were dropping like flies now, the three Malfoys and Ron fighting them off with a comfortable rhythm. Eventually they were down to three, and when Narcissa said "allow me," the men all stepped back.

With a flick of her wand, the final three figures evaporated into smoke, only their clothing left behind on the ground.

"Such a fun little spell," she smiled. "I'm not even going to tell you where I banished them - it's too delicious."

"You know what else is delicious?" said a booming voice from the entrance of the hall. "Squeezing the life out of sneaky little Mudbloods."

Everyone spun around, and to Draco's horror, Rodolphus was holding Hermione by the neck, her feet completely lifted off the ground. The man was huge, hulking, and covered in bloody scratches. She looked panicked, pained, and extremely angry. Her hands were covered in blood, but he could still see the shiny ring where it rested on her finger. Rodolphus had his wand to her head.

Draco's stomach flipped and the air crackled around him. He was going to _murder_ that bastard.

"Put your wands down!" Rodolphus ordered, and the group of four complied, all with varying degrees of terror and anger on their faces. Lucius was the calmest, which gave Draco hope. A calm Lucius was a dangerous Lucius.

"Now Rodolphus," said Lucius said, pleasantly. "Let's not let things get out of hand."

"Out of hand?" he roared. "You've just killed over thirty of the Dark Lord's soldiers, Lucius. You are standing in a river of their blood. I'd say you let things get fairly out of hand."

Lucius looked down at his feet with surprise. He was indeed standing in a river of their blood. _Fancy that_.

Meeting Rodolphus's eyes, he calmly stepped out of the mess, and began to stride slowly towards Hermione, leaving bloody footprints in his wake.

"Not another step, Lucius."

He stopped, and looked at the man with an unreadable expression. It might have been annoyance.

Rodolphus locked eyes with Draco, his smug face sneering at him from behind the curtain of his greasy, uncontrolled hair. Draco felt the anger pulsing out of him in hot waves, the air around him practically humming with his panic. _You will fucking pay for touching her_.

"It was her, wasn't it, Draco? She's the one who knocked me out, the one who saved you."

Draco nodded stiffly, knowing there was no point in playing games right now. His mind raced through spells he could use, but attempting them without his wand might make things worse.

He shot a desperate look at his father, and to his amazement, Lucius winked. _Winked!_

_He'd better have a plan, because I'm about to explode._

"She very feisty," Rodolphus continued, leering. "She actually tried to bite me. Would you be sad if I broke her neck?" His grip tightened and Hermione winced, her feet swaying.

Draco was fully panicked now. It would only take a snap of his fingers or a flick of his wand and Hermione would be dead or severely injured. His hand was twitching with the tension, his lungs burning. The air continued to crackle. Only his father's cool demeanor was stopping him from doing something rash.

He heard Ron utter a low growl beside him. It was a tiny comfort, but a comfort nonetheless, to have one of Hermione's guard dogs here. He would like to see what Ron would do if he were let loose on Rodolphus. He would probably crush all the bones in his body. Hermione was lucky to have friends like that. Draco supposed he was, too.

"Rodolphus, I'm going to let you in on a little secret," said Lucius, cutting through the tension, a cold smile taking over his features.

Rodolphus suddenly looked unsure, breaking eye contact with Draco and glancing back at Lucius. He knew that smile. It was the Malfoy "business" smile.

"The lovely young woman you are trying to strangle happens to be my future daughter-in-law," he continued, eyeing Hermione's hand. "Would you like to know why that's relevant?"

The man cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking briefly at the girl in his grasp. Future daughter-in-law? He had only planned on torturing Draco by killing the Mudblood, thrilled with his luck when he heard her calling for him over the buzz of the battle. It made sense that it would be her after all he had been told - she'd been hiding successfully from the Dark Lord for longer than anyone else, after all. The bleeding-heart Gryffindor was exactly the kind of person who would save Draco's life, thereby denying Rodolphus the pleasure of kicking the breath out of him. He was quite happy to cause Draco anguish if the two were involved; the traitor ought to be punished for everything he had done. Cavorting with a Mudblood was the last straw.

Lucius was another matter altogether. Lucius wasn't part of the plan when Rodolphus managed, after a surprisingly long and painful scuffle, to grab the Mudblood. The bitch could fight. So could the senior Malfoy, incidentally. Which is why being on the receiving end of the "business" smile was mildly disconcerting.

"It's relevant," Lucius said, with that same disturbing smile, "Because it means that when I kill you, I will use one of my most unpleasant spells to do so. I will take extreme pleasure in your death. Surely you remember that I know quite a few unpleasant spells, Rodolphus?"

Draco saw that the man's hands were shaking now. It must have just occurred to him that Lucius did not need a wand to perform magic.

Draco also realized with a start why Lucius was so calm: he must have already slithered his way into Rodolphus's mind. His father did seem awfully confident that no harm would come to Hermione... Did he see Rodolphus's doubt? Was he staring down his hesitation? Lucius's skills in Legilimency were legendary, but Draco had never really seen them in action.

He was suddenly, staggeringly impressed with his father.

And incredibly relieved he had learned Occlumency when he was a kid.

"But enough chatter," said Lucius, breaking into a wolfish grin, and cutting off Draco's train of thought. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Rodolphus opened his mouth to reply, but the only sound he could make was a hiss. He dropped Hermione unceremoniously, who scrambled a few feet away, and then froze as she watched his face.

Out of Rodolphus's mouth slithered a thin black snake, and Hermione realized with a start that the snake had replaced his tongue.

_Oh Lucius. You are a twisted, wonderful man. He's going to be bitten after all._

The snake hissed again, Rodolphus's eyes following it with frozen terror as it reared back.

The snake bit him in the cheek first, and then proceeded to massacre the man's face with its poisonous fangs. Rodolphus's head soon became a festering mess of venom and swollen bites, and he collapsed within seconds of the first attack. He convulsed briefly, and then stopped moving, paralyzed as the poison made its way through his bloodstream.

Lucius walked over to Hermione in sure-footed, even steps, offering her his hand. She took it gratefully, pulling herself up as she watched Rodolphus's eyes glaze over.

"Never _ever_ threaten my family, Rodolphus," Lucius hissed, keeping his grip on Hermione's hand. "Don't forget why the Malfoy name commands the fear it does."

The man's chest stopped rising, and with a shaky breath, Hermione wrapped her arms around Lucius's neck.

"That was totally barbaric," she whispered fondly in his ear. "Thank you." With a soft kiss on his cheek, which made him grin and blush like a schoolboy, she ran over to Draco and threw herself into his arms.

Draco crushed her in his embrace, shaking all over. He couldn't even speak. Somewhere in his mind he registered that Ron was stroking Hermione's hair and his mother had her hand on his back, but all he cared about was Hermione.

"That was a close call, 'Mione," Ron said, relief on his face.

"Oh well, I think he was just sore because he caught me blasting off one of Rowle's arms," she said with a quiet smile.

"Say what?" said Draco, pulling back. Apparently Ron wasn't the only member of the trio who was a beast in battle.

"He was using the arm to choke Mr. Weasley! It seemed like a logical defense at the time," she said, innocently. "He's a little touchy that I managed to steal you away from them, I think. Insult to his manhood or some nonsense."

"Blimey, thanks for that," said Ron, slightly in awe. "I'm sure my dad appreciates the gesture."

"My pleasure," Hermione said primly, as though she were discussing a well-written essay, and not the dismemberment of a certain Death Eater. Then a puzzled expression took over her face. "What a minute, you two were fighting together? Like, as a team?"

"Ron here saved my life, actually," said Draco, smiling. "Thanks to him, you still have a fiance, and a sane one at that."

"Matter of opinion, mate," Ron grinned.

"Oh Draco, Hermione, I'm so happy for you!" Narcissa gasped, cutting in. "I noticed the ring when Rodolphus came in, of course, but that wasn't a good time to gush."

She gathered them both into a warm hug, which they happily returned. "Thanks, mum," Draco said, shyly. All this familial affection was overwhelming... Not that he minded.

"Hermione!" cried a familiar voice, interrupting the bizarre celebration. Neville came running into the hall. He had large blood stains across his chest, but it looked like the blood wasn't his. In fact, he seemed to be in fine form. Amazingly, battle suited him.

"Harry's in the garden with Voldemort," he wheezed.

And suddenly everyone was running.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Lucius and Narcissa were leading the small group in the direction of the garden, everyone running with a mix of determination and fear. _This_ was the deciding factor, wasn't it? The outcome of this fight meant everything. Would Voldemort be killed? Would Harry?

The manor being the size that is was, there was a fair amount of running through other battles to get to the entrance to the garden. They helped where they could - Neville knocked out a Death Eater who was dueling Luna Lovegood, and Luna threw him a grateful smile. She looked drained, her hair singed and smokey from the aftermath of a fireball hex.

Draco saw Ginny Weasley struggling angrily under the weight of a huge Death Eater, and realized the bastard was intent on raping her. Fury shot through him. These were _his_ people now. That was _Ron's sister_. With a perfectly-aimed spell, the man was blasted off the girl. "Hello little Weasley!" he said with a cheerful wave, still running to keep up with the group. She sent him a shocked grin before whipping out a dagger and stabbing an oncoming female Death Eater in the eye.

 _Ugh, she's certainly not squeamish_ , Draco thought, uncomfortably. His spells were nice and clean, even when they ended in death. He was a bit of a neat freak that way; quite different from his parents. But stabbing someone in the eye? _Nasty_.

 _Actually, if the little Weasley is anything like Ron, a dagger probably suits her just fine_. _Weasleys fight like fucking brutes._

The entrance to the garden was getting closer. Draco could see the glass French doors in the distance, and a hint of manicured hedges just beyond. Soon they would be at the main fountain. Soon they would be in front of the Dark Lord he had betrayed.

He glanced over at Hermione as she ran beside him, his heart straining happily at the sight.

She was completely in her element. Her hair, undone again and streaming out behind her, made her look like some sort of goddess of battle. The blood stains on her hands and cheeks looked more like war paint the way she carried herself - confident, angry and beautiful. Her ring glinted in the scattered light.

_She's going to be my wife._

He gazed at her just long enough to miss the hex that was sailing towards him, seeing it only milliseconds before Hermione calmly blocked it with a shield spell. She had barely even blinked, and he remained unscathed, as they ran onwards.

"Focus, Draco," she said with a grin, catching his eye.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he said, "It's a little embarrassing how many times I'd be dead if it weren't for you."

She snorted with laughter, but quickly sobered, as the group reached the doors.

Abruptly, she shivered and looked around, puzzled. "Did you feel that strange ward?" she murmured, more to herself than anything. Draco shook his head, wondering what she felt.

Together, they walked to the front of the small crowd to take in the astounding sight in front of the fountain.

The scene before them was tense, the air thick with anxiety and desperation.

None of those emotions belonged to Harry.

He stood in front of Voldemort in a standoff, wand up, looking every bit the legend that he was born to be. His posture was perfect, and his demeanor was ferocious. For the first time that Draco could remember, Harry looked commanding. Like a leader about to punish a tyrant.

Voldemort, having always looked deformed, evil and vile, still had those qualities, but there had been a staggering physical change in him since Draco had fled the manor all that time ago. He now looked ancient, like a hundred-year-old version of himself. His shriveled skin and sunken eyes only made him look more deranged, and his posture was hunched and fragile. His eyes were darting around in a panic.

_He knows the end is near._

Suddenly, Voldemort's eyes snapped to Draco's, and Draco's mental walls flew up out of habit. His ring twitched and throbbed. _What the hell is going on? Can Hermione feel that too?_

"My wand isn't working," Draco heard Neville whisper behind him.

"Mine either," whispered Ron. "He must have blocked our power somehow. To make sure it's only him and Harry in the end."

 _My wand is dead?_ Draco thought with gnawing concern. _That won't do._

Then it occurred to him... The ward Hermione felt. It had killed their wands.

_Holy fuck._

"Draco Malfoy," croaked Voldemort. "I knew you would come."

Draco narrowed his eyes, and his peripheral registered Hermione tensing up beside him. Harry didn't flinch, focusing on Voldemort.

"Tom, you aren't here to talk to Draco. You are here to die. You've been deflecting my spells for half an hour now... It's time to end this," said Harry, calmly. "It's over."

Ignoring him, Voldemort continued.

"Tell me where it is, Draco. Tell me where you hid the cup and I'll let Harry live."

Draco snorted. _Is that what he thinks? Is he honestly clinging to that last shred of hope?_

"Okay Tom," said Draco, taking Harry's lead, all too happy not to call the monster before him 'My Lord'. "I'll tell you. I hid it under a trap door in the manor."

"Which one? Which one?" he hissed, his eyes widening with sick hope. The air hung dead around them. Everyone held their breath.

It seemed everyone but Voldemort knew the truth. Or everyone but Voldemort had _accepted_ the truth. He must feel the absence on some level. He _must_. His physical appearance was evidence enough.

Draco took a final look at the crumbling Dark Lord in front of him.

"The one containing your precious fiendfire."

So many things happened then.

Voldemort let out a shriek that echoed through the garden, the manor, the woods, and probably the village beyond.

Harry flicked his wrist and shot the Killing Curse towards the screaming mess in front of him.

A curse left Voldemort's wand just as Harry's spell connected with his body.

But the spell wasn't directed at Harry. The spell shot towards Draco.

And in that split second before the curse connected with Draco's chest, Hermione lept in front of him.

It connected with hers instead.

If the scene was slowed down even more, one might have been able to make out the strange glowing aura that had built itself around Hermione as Draco said that ominous last sentence. It was a golden, shimmery brightness that covered every inch of her, but only lightly - like a floating cloud of gold dust that traveled with her as she jumped in front of Voldemort's spell.

Draco screamed like a man possessed. His ring burned around his finger, pulsing in agony. Hermione lay at his feet, unmoving.

Voldemort was dead, but to Draco, nothing mattered. Hermione had taken the spell for him. The telltale green light had been enough of a hint - Avada Kedavra to the _fucking heart_. She was dead. Dead. Dead.

Draco howled and howled, clawing at the arms that were lifting him off of her.

He howled as those same arms dragged him away, speaking in hushed tones.

He howled as his magic came loose and went wild, blowing out windows, cracking walls and setting the furniture on fire.

He howled until someone knocked him out, and even then, his ring continued to burn, pulsing like a heartbeat through his blood.

* * *

 

"Don't give up, Draco. She's not dead." The voice was soft and sweet, and it was the first thing Draco had heard since that horrible moment in the garden.

"She's not dead," said the voice again. "If you can hear me, she's not dead. Don't give up. You need to wake up so we can figure out how to heal her."

_She's not dead._

_She's not dead._

"She's not dead?" he gasped, suddenly sitting up. Light assaulted his eyes and he cried out in agony, collapsing back onto the pillow. His body was in terrible pain, every muscle clenching and sore.

A cool hand touched his forehead and then smoothed his hair back.

"No, she's not. Not awake, but not dead either." The voice was so kind. Draco wanted to cry. So he did.

_She's not dead._

The voice soothed him, stroking his hair, his cheeks, his hands. The voice told him everything would be okay; they would find a way to wake Hermione. She would be fine. Voldemort was dead. Hermione would wake up.

As the tears slowed, he carefully cracked open his eyes, allowing the light in as cautiously as he could.

Ginny sat there, next to his bed, with a soft smile on her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she had a look of strength behind them that was comforting. She had not spoken empty words - she believed, with everything she had, that Hermione would wake. He could tell.

"You're in pain because your wild magic went a bit out of control at the manor. Your body is recovering - it went into shock. Now that you're awake, I can give you a potion to speed up the process."

She uncorked a small bottle and brought it to his lips.

"Hermione made it, before," she said softly as he drank. "You know how she is. For emergencies."

He remembered back to the first potion she gave him in the cave and almost smiled at how wrong he had been about her abilities. Apparently she had quite a talent for potions.

It went to work on him, and the pain slowly subsided.

"I love her," he croaked. He just wanted to say it out loud again. He wanted to tell anyone who would listen.

"I know you do," said Ginny.

"I think I would die without her," he said. It was true, and he wondered how being in love could make you feel like dying. It was contradictory, wasn't it?

"I know you would," said Ginny.

She wasn't just humouring him. She understood, somehow. It made him want to cry again, but he held it in. Too much of that and people might get the wrong idea.

"What happened at the manor? After... After she was hit?"

"Well, you went berserk, and my dad had to knock you out after you made an entire room collapse."

Draco thought about that. Wild magic was dangerous. He could have killed someone and had no idea. It was a scary thought.

"What about the Death Eaters? Who was left?"

Ginny looked uncomfortable.

"Uh, you weren't the only one who went berserk. Your dad kind of snapped when Hermione fell and went on a bit of a manhunt. He, Ron and Harry went after all the remaining Death Eaters. To be honest, I'm not sure if anyone survived."

Draco decided that he had been completely wrong about the Demented Duo. Well, Ron he liked, what with the saving him from Bellatrix and all that, but he'd never really given the same chance to Harry. Turns out they were both cut from the same cloth. No wonder Hermione was so attached to them.

He'd have to find them a new nickname.

And his father... Well... He pitied any Death Eater who had the misfortune of surviving up to the point where Voldemort fell. They no doubt died horrible, messy deaths at the hands of an unhinged Lucius. Draco suspected his father knew spells that would make Voldemort's reptilian toes curl. He could make that snake curse seem merciful.

"We didn't know at first that she had survived," Ginny said. "But her ring was sending off these magical pulses and your mother noticed. She's the one who rushed her back to Headquarters. We have private Healers looking after her."

A puzzled expression settled on Draco's face as he thought this over.

"But I thought she was hit with the Killing Curse. I saw the green light," he said.

"She was."

"And she's not dead?"

"Something to do with your rings, I believe."

_The rings._

Some sort of ancient protection was built into them... Hadn't his mother said that? Been in the Malfoy family forever? Could they really stop the Killing Curse?

"So... If I hadn't proposed before the battle, she would have died?"

"I imagine so," Ginny said.

He felt a little sick thinking of that, remembering how close he had been to putting it off, too nervous about her reaction to chance it.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"You've been out for two days. I've been doing shifts with Ron and your parents to watch you and Hermione. Harry did one shift with Hermione and then... Well... He's not doing so great. Stopped doing the shifts after that."

"Why?" asked Draco, although he thought he might know the answer. It was the same reason he would be a wreck until she woke up.

"Blames himself, of course," Ginny smiled.

"It's my - "

"No, it's not your fault. Hermione has a habit of throwing herself in the path of danger for the people she loves. It's just not usually the Killing Curse on the other end. She must _really_ love you."

"Bloody Gryffindors," he muttered, but his heart wasn't in it. She loved him enough to take Voldemort's Killing Curse for him. There was nothing else to say. He wanted to her to wake up. He wanted her to be okay. He wanted to marry her, insane courage and all.

"Oh now Draco... You don't fool me for a second. I daresay all your favourite people are Gryffindors now." She held out her arm with a smile. "Shall we see if you can walk?"

Draco decided that Ginny was one of the nicest people he'd ever met. And she was right - somehow, all his favourite people were Gryffindors. Life was weird that way.

With some effort, they got him out of bed, and started to make their way to Hermione's room, Draco leaning heavily on Ginny.

* * *

 

When they arrived in the doorway, before stepping in, Ginny caught his eye and said, "You ready?"

Draco shrugged nervously. "It will never be a good time to see this." He was terrified to see what state Hermione was in. He already felt like his heart was cracking under the weight.

Ginny nodded back, and gently pushed open the door.

He saw his mother first, sitting in a chair by the bed. His father, gazing out a nearby window, turned around at the sound. They both looked like they hadn't slept since the battle. Perhaps they hadn't.

Ron was stretched out on a beat-up couch, fast asleep. He also looked worse for wear, dark circles around his eyes and fading scars all over his exposed skin.

Harry was nowhere to be seen.

And Hermione. Oh God, Hermione.

She looked small and pale, lying in the bed. Her hair hung limply around her, her bruised hands were now free of blood but clearly showing the damage she incurred from fighting off Rodolphus.

But it was the bruise on her chest that was the most extraordinary thing - where the curse had hit, a deep red, angry swollen mark had bloomed, stretching out from her heart nearly to her shoulders. She looked like she had been beaten to a pulp and then crushed for good measure.

Draco's breath caught in his throat. She was alive, but barely.

He felt Ginny's reassuring hand on his arm.

"Draco," his mother said, smiling softly. "I'm so glad you're awake."

He didn't respond, still staring at Hermione. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

Slowly, and with some difficulty, he walked over to her unconscious form, his eyes never leaving her face. He slipped her small hand into his.

"What did the Healers say?" he said, thickly.

"They said they don't understand why she's alive."

"That's it?"

"They also don't understand why she won't wake up. They've suggested that it's some sort of magical coma." Narcissa rolled her eyes to show how useful she found that information.

Draco's mind drifted back to a tea party his mother had thrown in his youth. The parties were always dreadfully boring, but he had stayed to listen to the women talk for a few minutes before excusing himself. One of the women there had a husband in a magical coma - he'd been like that for five years after a bad accident and nobody knew if he would ever come out of it.

"Those can last a long time," he said, quietly.

Narcissa nodded sadly.

"We'll continue hiring the best Healers we can find until somebody has more information," she said with conviction. "She will wake up, Draco. We will figure this out."

He nodded mutely. She was alive. He was so grateful. But a magical coma was serious - it had no end date. He was glad his mother was so determined, because he felt lost.

"I'll stay with her now," he found himself saying. "I'll sleep here too."

_I will sleep here forever if that's what it takes._

Everyone nodded, including Ron, who had just woken up. Everyone expected him to say that.

"We'll give you some privacy, son," said Lucius, suddenly behind him with a hand on his shoulder. He sounded incredibly tired. "We need to stop into the manor to oversee the repairs. We'll be back this evening."

The group began to shuffle out, leaving Draco alone with Hermione.

"Hello love," he whispered. That was all he could say. He felt like his chest was collapsing. He didn't want to speak anymore.

He crawled onto the bed, stretching out beside her, and rested his arm across her waist.

He kissed her cheek, and then her bruised hand.

He barely knew how to heal her last time, and this time, he felt completely helpless. He couldn't do anything but wait.

"Please wake up," he whispered. "I can't do this without you."


	17. Chapter 17

Later that day, Lucius came back from the manor and found Draco curled up around Hermione on the bed.

"Son? May I come in?"

Draco nodded, not lifting his eyes from Hermione's face.

"How's the manor?" Draco said, his voice rough from lack of use.

"It's seen better days, but the repairs are going well. You're a powerful wizard, son. Your wild magic completely demolished the main hall."

Draco glanced up at his father to find him smirking. Well, at least he wasn't angry.

"I don't remember doing that," Draco said. He didn't remember much of anything after Hermione was hit. Nothing except for that terrible throbbing on his ring finger.

"You wouldn't. You were, like myself, a little overcome."

Draco managed to smirk at that.

"I heard about your rampage with Harry and Ron."

Lucius snorted.

"Yes, well, those boys can be quite vicious when given the proper motivation. Your fiance seems to inspire strong emotions in those around her."

 _That's certainly true_ , thought Draco. _All-consuming love, for example._

"Speaking of your fiance, son, I came to tell you that the house elves found something rather curious in the library."

Draco raised his head from the pillow, puzzled. His father was smirking again. It was good to see such a familiar expression on his face, but it seemed out of place, given the circumstances.

"Oh?"

"It appears Hermione landed there when everyone apparated, and ran into Mulciber."

Draco shuddered. Even when he had been in Voldemort's service, Mulciber gave him the creeps. The man was huge, hulking, violent and always opted to traumatize his victims with rape before moving on to more traditional forms of torture. He was a sick, vile excuse for a man.

That fact knocked the wind out of him.

"You don't mean to say he - "

"No no," said Lucius, waving off his concern. "Our little firestarter didn't even let him get past the bragging stage, it seems. She feigned injury, and when he made his usual threat of rape, she paralyzed him and rendered him impotent with a spell of her own invention."

Draco barked out a laugh. The sound was alien to him now, but it felt good to do something other than let his heart fall apart. _That_ was the Hermione he was longing for. She was the fiercest witch he'd ever met, rivalled only by his mother.

The Malfoy family had a monopoly on fierce witches, it seemed.

"He's a whimpering mess," Lucius continued, the beginnings of a sneer on his face. "Keeps going on about how he was emasculated by a... Muggle-born." Draco was quite sure Mulciber did not use that word to describe Hermione.

"Regardless, he'll be put on trial and locked up. The public will have one Death Eater to persecute after all. With our family being pardoned, and with the death of... Oh... Sixty or so Death Eaters in the name of non-traditional justice - _Draco snorted at his father's euphemism for the enthusiastic slaughter of his former colleagues_ \- I think the Ministry was getting worried that they wouldn't have anyone alive left to blame. Mulciber will serve a purpose after all."

His father looked quite pleased with this turn of events.

"Good," said Draco. "He deserves no less." He thought a bit more about what his love had done to Mulciber. Now he was curious. He'd never gotten a chance to ask Hermione what happened after they apparated.

"So... She fried his bits and then left him there?"

"She tied him to a column and made him invisible," Lucius clarified. "He probably would have starved to death if it weren't for the house elves." The tone in Lucius's voice was not one of sympathy.

"Pity they found him at all," muttered Draco. "But thank you for the news. She's a force to be reckoned with, even if she's - "

His voice caught in his throat.

" - Asleep," he finally finished.

"She'll wake up, son," Lucius said, gently. "She's not going to let a little Killing Curse keep her away from you. You know how Malfoy women are."

_Malfoy women. That sounds nice._

"And don't forget," his father continued, with a cheeky smile. "She's also a bloody Gryffindor."

* * *

 

A long week later, Draco woke up to hear Narcissa arguing with one of the Healers.

"Why would you tell us it's a magical coma when it's far more complicated than that?" she hissed outside the door to the bedroom.

"Mrs. Malfoy, please understand, this isn't a normal situation - "

"Which why I hired _you_ , Mr. Duncan, since you claim to specialize in abnormal magical injury." Oh, Narcissa was _angry_. Draco had heard that tone before. He listened intently.

The Healer made an embarrassed sound. "What I'm saying, Mrs. Malfoy, is because of my suspicions, you might need a curse breaker instead of a Healer. There is something still active in her body - a spell that continues to weaken her."

"Fine," snapped Narcissa. "You are relieved of your services. If you had mentioned your suspicions earlier, we could have gotten someone in immediately. You have wasted valuable time, and my future daughter-in-law's _life_ is on the line. Consider that next time you feed someone a vague explanation for their condition, you daft little man. Out of my sight!"

Draco heard a house elf usher the shaken man away and the swish of his mother's skirts as she stalked off, snarling, no doubt preparing to scour the country for the best curse breaker available.

So that was it. There was more to the coma than met the eye. He felt stinging, bubbling anger that the Healer didn't tell them his suspicions right away, wondering if it would be worth the jail time for murdering the man before he got to the front door.

No, that wouldn't do. He wasn't going to leave Hermione's side to sit around in Azkaban. She wouldn't approve, anyway.

Taking a calming breath, and running his hands through his hair, he decided to let his mother do what she does best: throw herself into a fury, scream at some very important people, and then remind them that she has enough money to pay off all the curse breakers this side of the ocean. A new explanation would come to him, and fast.

Sure enough, within half an hour, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," said Draco, now sitting beside the bed in his regular chair, holding Hermione's hand.

A tall, striking man walked in, followed closely by Narcissa, who had put her "business" face back on. The man had flawless black skin, long dreaded hair, and a jagged scar from his hairline to his chin, just missing his eye. He looked imposing, but wore a kind smile.

"Draco, I presume?" he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Emmanuel. Shall we get started?"

Draco shook his hand and nodded, deciding that he liked the no-nonsense manner of this curse breaker. The sooner they knew more about Hermione's condition, the better.

Emmanuel took out his wand and ran it over Hermione's still form, his eyes drifting shut as his mouth began to chant an incantation. Draco didn't recognize the language of the spell, and he considered himself fairly well-versed in the field, having grown up with a wide variety of language tutors around the manor. _Interesting._

He took several minutes to complete the examination, during which time Draco began to feel extremely nervous about what the man's findings may be. What if Hermione couldn't be cured? Some curses simply weakened your body until they killed you with exhaustion. Draco couldn't imagine letting Hermione waste away like that. It would destroy him to watch it happen. He shared a quick look with his mother, who was masking her emotions far better than he.

Emmanuel's wand hand started to tremble, and his voice grew louder, chanting the words with more conviction now. Draco saw a bead of sweat slip down the man's face.

He stopped suddenly with a small gasp, his eyes snapping open.

"Fascinating..." he whispered.

"Explain," said Narcissa, her tone cold.

"Of course," said Emmanuel, regaining his composure. "To put it plainly, the protective magic of the ring is fighting off the Killing Curse inside her body. They are equally matched in strength, which is why she hangs between life and death. This will continue, in perpetuity, until one of those powers either gets stronger or weaker. If they remain constant, her condition will not change."

Draco felt as though his stomach had dropped out beneath him and swayed on his feet. Voldemort's Killing Curse versus the ancient magic of the rings, battling inside of Hermione. Forever. He felt his panic rising.

_I don't know how to fix this._

"And how likely is it that one of the powers will become either stronger or weaker?" asked Narcissa, warily.

"Very unlikely, I'm afraid," said Emmanual, looking at her with sympathy. "And this is not something I recommend having a curse breaker tinker with. Although I'm sure of my diagnosis, I would not attempt to affect either types of magic from the outside. Using an additional spell could destabilize her and kill her instantly."

Narcissa's cold demeanor had dropped and she looked close to tears.

"I don't want to make the situation sound hopeless, however," Emmanuel continued, glancing at Hermione's hand, and then at Draco's. "These rings contain an ancient, elemental magic. Usually with charmed objects, a spell is put on during the process of crafting the ring, or after the process is complete. In this case, the magic is in the actual materials."

He stepped closer to Hermione and lifted her hand, examining the ring more closely.

"The magic has bonded to Hermione - it's fighting fiercely for her, but as you can imagine, the curse is similarly intent on claiming her."

He placed her hand back down on the blanket, beginning to pace next to the bed.

"If we find out more about the origin of the ring's materials, where exactly they were mined, for example, we may be able to visit the site and learn more about the magic itself. It could make all the difference if we discover a way to boost the elemental magic at the source. Fight from the inside, so to speak. Push the darkness out."

Narcissa let out a pained breath. "We really don't know much about the rings," she said quietly, gazing at Hermione's face. "They were made so long ago, and details have been lost over the generations. We have ancient records on the family, of course, but I don't ever remember seeing anything on their origin."

"Mrs. Malfoy, I would be happy to assist you in researching their origin, if you would like," said Emmanuel with a soft smile, halting his pacing and standing in front of her. "I have a wide knowledge of magical regions in this part of the world, and it would still be worth the effort to examine your family records for any details that may have been missed. I'm sure we will be able to find something."

"Certainly, we would appreciate your help. Anything you can do," Narcissa responded. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, but she kept her composure.

Draco, on the other hand, was staring blankly at Hermione, horrified at the thought of the battle raging inside her body.

"Son?"

Draco just shook his head, not moving his gaze from his lover's face. He didn't want to talk. He didn't think it was likely that they would find any more information on the rings, but saying that out loud would be like admitting defeat.

Narcissa and Emmanuel quietly exited the room, discussing their plans in whispers and leaving him to his thoughts.

* * *

 

The following weeks were slow and painful. Hermione's condition hadn't changed, and Draco lived like a zombie, walking only from the bed to the loo and back again. Occasionally Ginny would show up and force him outside, but otherwise he stayed by Hermione's side, sleeping next to her at night, reading to her during the day.

Ron stopped in sometimes, as did his parents, and a few of the Order members, but he wasn't keen on the company. He hated being asked how she was doing, because nothing ever improved. She was still lost to him, locked inside her body with no way of getting out. Battling that goddamned curse like the fighter she was.

Draco knew it should be _him_ lying there, and the knowledge made him sick to his stomach.

His mother and Emmanuel were researching the rings around the clock to no avail. Emmanuel had even left on several trips to areas that had similar magical deposits, but so far, nothing had worked. Still, the man refused to give up, which encouraged Draco enough to keep him from losing his mind.

Draco's ring continued to pulse, but he was used to the feeling by now. While at first it was painful, like a warning, it was slowly fading to a calming buzz. He fiddled with it absent-mindedly, wondering about the ancient magic that saved Hermione. He wondered if that same magic would ever wake her up. He could murder Voldemort a million times over to make him pay for what he had done to her. Of course the bastard would go out like that coward he was, trying to take someone with him even when he knew it was over.

Hermione's bruise still hadn't completely faded, changing from blood red to a strange purple, slowly to a deep blue and now to a murky green. There was still a red circle where the spell had hit. Draco had never seen anything quite like it, but then again, it's not like people often survive the Killing Curse and have to heal through the aftermath. Harry still had his scar, and it seemed Hermione would have a red mark over her heart.

The heart that belonged to him.

Draco felt like a ghost, hovering over her, haunting the room.

The only other person living in such extreme limbo was Harry. The wizarding world was trying, and failing, to celebrate him. Giant events were held in his honour, prestigious posts and positions were offered to him, money was thrown his way, and he was having none of it. He hadn't even made a public statement after the battle, asking Mr. Weasley to speak on his behalf. The press was going wild trying to find out what he was doing all these weeks, but nobody was talking. Nobody really knew.

Draco knew.

Harry flew. He used one of Hermione's modified camouflage charms, one she had adjusted for travel, and flew like a crazed bird around London and neighbouring cities. He flew out to the ocean and hurtled over the water. He flew around the Burrow, taking in the peace and quiet of his adopted home. As long as he was in the air, he could manage the feeling of crushing guilt that coursed through him every time he thought about his comatose best friend. The friend he couldn't save. The friend who may never wake up. His joy over watching Voldemort fall had lasted a split second, and since then, he had been in mourning for Hermione.

He and Draco had a lot in common now, against all odds.

One day, Ginny showed up in the room and forced Draco away from Hermione's side, insisting he take the afternoon to get out of the house. She told Draco he was wasting away and that he had to take care of himself to prepare for when Hermione woke up. Although Draco wanted to argue, he appreciated Ginny's unwavering belief that Hermione would be okay, and agreed to step out for a few hours.

Having no idea where to go, and not wanting to face painful memories at the manor, he went to the Burrow to clear his head.

That's where he saw Harry, hovering over a far hilltop, looking completely lost in thought. Ron's broom was leaning against the back door of the house, and Draco decided he really had nothing else to lose. Harry probably understood his precarious mental state better than anyone, and it might be good to talk to someone after so many weeks of near isolation. He climbed on and flew over, relishing the feeling of being weightless again. It had been _so long_ since he had been on a broom.

"Draco," Harry said with a distant nod as he pulled up. "Ginny forced you away, I see?"

"Indeed. I've learned not to mess with a Weasley when they have a goal in mind. And Ginny gets that look in her eye - "

"Disturbing, isn't it? Like she's got something terrible planned for you if you defy her?"

"That's exactly it. And I don't think she's bluffing."

"Oh no," Harry chuckled. "It's never a bluff with Ginny. Probably best that you followed orders, lest you find yourself covered in bat bogeys."

Draco smiled. Neither of them spoke at length with anyone these days, but here they were, having a rather pleasant chat about Ginny's methods of persuasion. It was comfortable.

"I don't know how to manage this feeling," Harry said, suddenly. His voice was quiet. "I feel like I'm suffocating when I'm not in the air."

Draco nodded. "I feel like I'm suffocating when I'm not beside her. Like something is pressing down on my chest."

"So right now?" Harry said with a sad smile.

"Right now," Draco affirmed.

They were both silent for a while. Draco's ring started to hum again, and he rubbed it out of habit.

"Causing you pain?" Harry asked, looking at Draco's hand.

"No, no. At first, yeah, it was hurting. Throbbing. Burning, too. But it's been changing - now it's more like a happy hum. Reassuring, almost. I don't really understand it. I wish I knew more about the magic... It's killing me not being able to help her, and the blasted rings seem to be the key."

"A happy hum? That's funny," said Harry, furrowing his brow as thought he was trying to remember something.

"Why's that?"

"Oh, it's just a familiar phrase. That's how Hermione kept describing the feeling she got from that cave of hers. I couldn't feel a thing, mind you, but she always said she felt like the cave was protecting her, like it recognized her. Like there was old magic there. A happy hum."

Draco froze. He thought back to those days in the cave, that calming feeling he had when he was there spending time with Hermione. The way the cave seemed to send out pleasant frequencies the closer they became. The way it almost came alive with power that night in the hammock...

"You know Harry... I felt it too," he said, as though he were speaking through a thick fog.

Something clicked in his brain.

"Oh my God."

He sat there dumbfounded for a moment, high in the air above the Burrow, feeling a giant puzzle piece slide into place.

"Excuse me, I need to go check up on something."

Draco flew back to the Burrow as though Death himself was following him. Chucking the broom onto the grass and steadying his footing, he apparated to the manor.

* * *

 

"Mother?" he shouted, charging through the front doors. Then he cursed himself for forgetting he was a wizard, and tapped his signet ring.

His mother was in the garden.

Draco ran through the hallways, taking the familiar route to the back of the house. Last time he ran down these halls, Hermione was beside him. She was awake. She was running like a fucking goddess of battle, all courage and determination and ferocity.

Now she was locked in a magical sleep, and Draco had a theory to test out.

"Mother?"

"Here Draco," Narcissa called back. She was sitting by the fountain, stacks of ancient parchment beside her. She still hadn't given up.

"What's going on, son?" Narcissa said, rising quickly to her feet. "You haven't left Hermione's room in weeks... Is something wrong?"

"Mother, in your research with Emmanuel, was there ever a mention of a cave?" he said, panting.

Narcissa furrowed her brow, thinking back.

"We did find a journal entry from Circinus Malfoy, the one who mined the gold and jewels for the rings. The writing was very difficult to decipher, and the parchment itself had nearly disintegrated, but he did say something about a forest and a cave, yes... But love, I should tell you that Emmanuel has been to every known magical cave in Britain at this point, to no avail."

Draco couldn't breathe.

"I think he missed one," he choked out.

 _A happy hum._ _Could it be...?_

Draco apparated on the spot.


	18. Chapter 18

Draco reappeared in the middle of a howling gale.

He was momentarily shocked, unsure what to make of the rain and wind whipping at his body. Apparently the cave was far enough away from the manor that the weather systems were drastically different. A branch crashed down nearby, and he was jolted into action.

With a quick look around, he saw that he was a short way from the mouth of the cave, and took off running.

Even in the relentless rain, each step slick underfoot, everything was familiar to him. The smell of the woods sent memories careening through his mind. Everything here was _Hermione Hermione Hermione_. It was as though the wind was screaming her name.

It was raining like this the first time they made love.

It was raining like this the night after he healed her.

He could see the cave, and hastily wiped the rain out of his eyes. The magic was affecting him already; a low pulse that he felt in his bones.

_How did I not think of this before? If this works, I owe Harry a life debt._

He picked up the pace. Just a few more steps.

Draco ran into the cave, squinting at the darkness. Hermione wasn't here to build a fire. The hammock was gone. But it was definitely their space. It even smelled like her - flowers and woodsmoke. His heart ached. He wanted her back.

He stood there, in the dry and the quiet, for several long seconds, catching his breath.

_How will I know what to do?_

The cave answered with a hum that shook his entire body. With a deep shudder, the air around Draco electrified, and suddenly he was surrounded by blinding light. The magic swirled around him, brushing his arms, legs, rushing over his ring. The hum intensified. It was as though the magic itself was asking him what he needed.

"She's hurt," he found himself saying. "She's hurt, and I don't know how to wake her up."

It felt almost like a breeze when the magic poured into him. Draco could make out an emotion within the energy... It felt strangely like concern, and it wasn't his own. His shoulders relaxed and he let the magic search him. He had become a vessel, allowing himself to simply _be_. The magic tore through him like a strong wind now, seeking out information, racing into his blood.

His mind stated to tingle, and he knew the magic was searching his memories. It was flipping through him like an open book. It replayed the scene of the final battle in his mind. It saw Hermione get hit. The magic _lurched_. It was frantic and terrifying and yet, standing there in the cave, surrounded by this powerful ancient force, Draco felt reassured. It understood. One of its own was in danger. It circled his broken heart, beating in time.

The fevered pitch started to wane, and slowly, surely, like a pulse, the magic backed down and left his body. His ring felt like liquid fire, but he wasn't in pain.

Then it spoke. Or, rather, it's message appeared in his consciousness. There was no voice to speak of, not really.

 _We bonded with one of your family line a long time ago_ , it said.

_When she came to us, we knew she would join your line. We protected her. We waited for you._

_She will begin a new era for your family. She will be the light to your darkness._

_We will heal her. Go to her now._

And then, shaking from head to toe, Draco felt his feet move to the mouth of the cave, and he apparated away.

* * *

 

He reappeared flat on his back in the park across from Headquarters, too overwhelmed and disoriented to have made a proper landing. His entire body was tingling with the ancient magic. His head swam as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

_Our cave. Our cave was the source. All that time._

It wasn't a coincidence, he knew. It was fated. The magic called to Hermione when she found the cave with Harry and Ron. It called to her again when she needed a place to hide and heal him. They fell in love there. And hundreds upon hundreds of years ago, the magic did the same for Circinus Malfoy, giving him the materials to make rings that would keep the magic with his family, allowing it to stay bonded with his line.

Now, it seemed, Hermione would start a new era for his family. What was it the magic said?

 _She will be the light to your darkness_.

_We will heal her._

With a rough gasp, Draco jumped to his feet, and ran to the front door of 12 Grimmauld Place, throwing it open and charging inside.

He knew something had changed because the moment he was inside the threshold, he heard happy shrieks coming from upstairs. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached Hermione's room within seconds.

And there she was, sitting up in bed, surrounded by nearly the entire fucking Order, awake and beaming.

"Draco!" she screamed, and he pushed his way through the crowd, throwing himself at her open arms. It was all too much. She was clinging to him, sobbing and laughing, and he was probably crushing her with the force of his embrace, shaking like a leaf.

"Everybody out! Immediately!" he heard Mrs. Weasley bark, and the room emptied out in record time, a few disappointed sighs rising up from the group.

The didn't speak for a long while, clutching each other, kissing each other, running their hands everywhere they could touch. Draco relished every single second, particularly the kisses. He could drown in them. Every time a kiss would end and he would pull back to look at her, he would feel drawn back in and start the cycle again. She was like a magnet. He needed more of her. She complied.

Hermione couldn't seem to stop crying, but they were tears of happiness, and she didn't bother to hold back. She cried and kissed and cried again. Her decision to jump in front of Draco and take the spell had come to her so quickly, it was over in a flash of light and a horrible pain over her heart. Then she was locked in a nightmare, with visions of gold and black clashing like lightening behind her eyes for what seemed like eternity.

But right before she jumped, she had noticed the strange gold aura that was building around her. She felt her ring hum. Fuck, on some level she even recognized that hum. And she jumped thinking, _I might actually come out of this alive, but if I don't, at least he will_. _At least he'll survive_. _It will be worth it_.

The long nightmare had ended with a brilliant wash of gold, a calming throb, and the most peculiar message that appeared in her consciousness as she slowly woke up.

"Draco," she murmured as he peppered her mouth with kisses. "Love you."

He whimpered, and kissed her again, hard.

"I was worried I'd never head you say that again," he breathed.

"You're going to hear me saying it constantly from now on," she smiled.

"Thank God." He kissed her again.

"Draco," she murmured. "It was the cave, wasn't it? The source of the power? The rings?"

Draco didn't respond, but nodded as he continued to kiss her. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to absorb her.

But Hermione had something that she needed to say.

"The magic spoke to me, Draco."

He stopped smothering her for a moment, and held her gaze.

"It spoke to me too," he said. "Told me it would heal you. Begin a new era for the family or something."

She thought about that for a moment.

"My message was a bit more... Specific," she said, shyly.

Draco looked at her, confused. What had the magic said?

"It told me it would continue to watch over the family..."

"Okay," said Draco, desperately wanting to get back to the kissing.

"It told me we were fated for each other..."

Draco leaned in for another kiss, feeling a bit panicked that his lips weren't on hers. Yes yes, fated, he knew all this.

She placed her finger on his lips and held him a few inches away from her mouth.

"And it told me that it's pleased our daughter was conceived in the cave."

Draco's mouth hung open, his eyes wide.

"Our... Our what?"

"Our daughter," she said, grinning nervously, searching his face for a reaction. "Funny, with both our brains, top of our classes and our ability to stay alive despite all odds, we didn't remember to cast a contraceptive charm."

"Our... We're... Our what?" he said again. It seemed the news had short-circuited his brain.

"Draco, we're having a daughter," she said, gently. Her mind was also catching up to the news, remembering now when she felt sick before the final battle. She had assumed it was nerves, as usual. Apparently she had been wrong. It didn't happen often. This just happened to be a fairly large oversight.

He stared at her again, trying to process her words. Eventually, a wide smile took over his face.

"Just when I think this day can't get any better, you go and say that. I'm going to marry you a million times over, woman. I hope you're ready."

With a happy growl, he pounced on her, and she responded with a delighted shriek.

* * *

 

They continued kissing and whispering excitedly to each other for the next half hour, so astounded by the news of the pregnancy that they almost forgot about the _other_ news: Hermione was awake, and her loved ones wanted to see her. Eventually Hermione noticed the shadows under the crack of the door, and realized with a sigh that they had better stop cocooning themselves away.

"Draco," she said as he nuzzled her neck. "I think there are people outside wanting to come in."

"Fuck 'em," he murmured, trailing his tongue up her ear.

"That would be inappropriate, seeing as how we're engaged," she replied with a smirk.

"Clever witch," he said, drawing her into a deep kiss. When he finally broke away, he acquiesced with an eye roll, saying, "Okay, I know, people and all that."

"What do we say about the pregnancy, Draco?" She looked a little worried. Although they were both thrilled, having a child was wasn't in the immediate plans, and the news was a bit overwhelming. What would everyone say?

"Let's keep it just between us for now," he whispered with a fond smile. "Give us some time to process it."

"Okay," she grinned.

Draco waved his hand at the door, and it opened suddenly, with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Lucius and Narcissa on the other side. There was a chorus of excited yells, and the group tumbled in.

"WE'RE HAVING A BABY!" Draco shouted happily. Everyone froze in their tracks.

"What the fuck Draco!" Hermione exclaimed. "Whatever happened to keeping it quiet for now?"

"Uh, sorry, I don't know where that came from," said Draco, obviously embarassed. It's like his mouth had muscled his brain into submission, wanting to share the news too badly to wait. _Awkward_.

"Is it true?" asked Narcissa, a gleeful smile on her face.

Everyone looked at Hermione.

"Yes, it's true," she said with a happy shrug, obviously not angry with Draco for his dramatic case of foot-in-mouth. "We're having a girl!"

A joyful cheer rose up through the old house. Harry and Ron grabbed each other's shoulders and shouted, "We're going to be uncles!" It was so Fred and George, Ginny looked perturbed. Other Order members started flowing back into the room, and Mrs. Weasley's shrill scream when she heard the news had everyone's ears ringing for the rest of the day.

"You know what this means, don't you, darling?" Lucius murmured to Narcissa, his hand slipping around her waist while everyone celebrated. She raised a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow in his direction.

He leaned in close to her ear, and whispered, the words "shaggable" and "grandmother" escaping to the ears of those around them.

Narcissa giggled like a teenager again and everyone in the room blanched.

Draco narrowed his eyes at his parents. "I have the misfortune of remembering what that giggle means, mother."

Ron, who had found something to eat, managed to mumble out a "Can't blame your father, mate... Your mum's a fucking fox," before Ginny smacked him upside the head and the celebrations resumed, going well into the night.

Not wanting to wait, Draco and Hermione had a tiny wedding the following week, with only Harry, Ron, Ginny, Lucius and Narcissa present, along with a few select members of the Order. Arthur Weasley officiated and Molly sobbed through the whole thing.

They kept it small for several reasons, the main one being that, at Hermione's insistence, they held it in the cave. Hermione wouldn't hear a word against it, and as usual, nobody wanted to argue with her.

Besides, that cave was the only reason she was there with them all. It was an act of extreme thanks, if nothing else.

Hermione also felt strange holding a big event when the Order was mourning its losses - Remus's death had rocked her, as had Seamus's and Kingsley's. Bill Weasley was still in recovery and Dean Thomas had vanished. No, any celebration that happened this close to the battle had to be subdued out of respect for the loved ones they were missing.

They did plan to have a bigger wedding after the baby was born, much later on in the year, and they needed time to find Hermione's parents and reverse the memory charm before that happened. Draco was shocked to hear that she had wiped their memories and hidden them away, caught again wondering how a witch with such strength and courage had ended up with _him_.

Not that he was going to argue. He wasn't about to give her up. He had it on good authority that they were fated for each other, after all.

He was also quite looking forward to meeting the two people who had raised his ferocious lioness, and was deeply curious about this mysterious "dentist" profession. Sounded hazardous, frankly. The Grangers were brave people.

So the small wedding was just that: everyone was cramped inside, shoulder to shoulder, but it was such a joyful occasion that nobody seemed to mind. Hermione was dressed in a flowing cream gown, accented with light gray lace capping the shoulders and a matching ribbon around the waist. She had promised Narcissa that she would do a more traditional white for the larger wedding, but this time she wanted it simple and sweet.

Actually, the words she used when explaining it to Ginny were more along the lines of, "I don't want any girly bridal bullshit distracting me from marrying Draco."

She hardly needed to justify the simplicity of it all - with her waist-length curls, her flawless skin and her luminous eyes, she had everyone present stammering about her beauty. It helped that she had a tell-tale glow about her, even though the pregnancy hadn't quite started to show.

Harry and Ron were quite literally without words, gaping like fish and then crushing her into giant hugs when they saw her enter the cave. It had been lit with about fifty floating candles, and everything was bathed in a warm glow.

"We're cool, right 'Mione?" Ron whispered in her ear as he squeezed her tightly. "You know we're totally fine with this now, right?"

"Yeah, honestly, I think we're both sorry about all that madness when we were on the run last year," Harry added, gently moving a lock of hair away from her eyes. "I mean, we love you so much, but that bloke you're about to marry is right for you."

"Thanks, both of you, for everything," Hermione said with a tearful smile. "I think he's right for me too. I'm so glad we're all okay."

With a last hug, Hermione turned to find her husband-to-be waiting for her at the widest part of the cave. She realized with a start that this was also the exact place where they had hung the hammock. Where they had... Where their daughter was...

_Huh. Didn't really consider that when I insisted on having the wedding here._

Hermione glanced up at Draco's beautiful gray eyes and saw them twinkling with mischief. He had obviously realized it too.

 _No matter,_ she thought. _We can be grown-ups about this_.

And then,

 _Hah! We're going to be married in the exact spot we shagged each other's virginal brains out_.

And then,

 _Be a grown-up, damnit_.

And finally,

_Merlin, he looks gorgeous._

He really did. Settling on dark gray formal robes that made his eyes stand out even more than usual, wearing his platinum hair long and shaggy the way Hermione liked it, he looked like a vision.

He was similarly taken with her, breaking out into a hungry smile as his eyes roamed her body.

"Why Mr. Malfoy, keep looking at me like that and people will start to talk," Hermione grinned as she walked up to him.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I can assure you that everyone here is looking at you with similar adoration," he grinned back. "I'm just the lucky bugger who gets to marry you."

"Alright everyone, we'll just get started if you don't mind," said Mr. Weasley, decked out in while formal robes and looking very official on such short notice. The small group quieted down.

Draco took Hermione's hands in his, and felt his heart speed up in his chest. They locked eyes, hardly able to believe that they were about to be wed.

_This is it._

"Draco, Hermione, you have opted for the 'short and sweet' version of the marriage ceremony today. You are here in the presence of your loved ones, friends and family, to declare your everlasting love for each other. You are here to swear, in their presence, that you will love and protect each other for the rest of your days. I understand you have prepared some vows?"

Hermione nervously cleared her throat, tightening her hands around his. They weren't 'vows' so much as 'rambling' and she hoped she wouldn't say anything too stupid.

_Here goes!_

"Draco, everyone here knows that we didn't exactly get off to the best start when we were young. In fact, anyone here who remembers our relationship to one another in those days would attest that it's completely insane to think that we are about to be married."

"Tell me about it," whispered Ron, who winked at the couple cheekily. Several people chuckled.

"But when the war started, and I found myself running through a strange forest, unsure if I would make it out alive, I had the incredible fortune of finding you, my childhood nemesis, my tormentor, my soon-to-be-love."

Narcissa sniffled into her handkerchief and Hermione continued.

"I didn't know that night what would happen between us," she said, her voice faltering a bit. "I didn't know I would fall in love with you so deeply, that I would fight for you so hard, or that I would one day gladly give up my life to save yours..."

Both Draco and Hermione had tears running down their cheeks now, and they paused to wipe them away.

"But I don't regret a second of it. I wouldn't change a thing if I could. I'm honoured to spend my life with you."

Draco let out a shaky breath, wondering how he could top such a heartfelt declarartion.

"Also, I'm sorry for calling you a slimy ferret all those years. But you deserved it at the time."

The entire cave erupted into laughter, breaking the tension and giving the couple a much-needed break from their public waterworks.

Draco cleared his throat with a grin.

"Well Hermione, I could very easily rehash what you've just said and it would all be true, but instead I'll say this: starting with the night you found me in the woods, at death's door and without a hope in the world, you have given me my life back. Literally. In fact, if I count it out, I do believe that you have saved my life four times since that first night in the forest. Four times. Hermione, you either have a death wish, or you're a bloody Gryffindor. I think it may be a bit of both."

Hermione chuckled and squeezed his hands.

"But in all seriousness, you are the absolute light of my life. You've given me a reason to live. When you were hit by Voldemort's curse - " Draco's voice broke as he tried to form the words.

"When you were hit with the curse and I thought you had died, I felt my life collapse. My magic broke apart, my heart crumbled, and I was lost to the world. I wanted to die too, just to be able to join you."

Hermione was crying again, and he rushed to finish.

"But by some incredible miracle, by the ancient magic in this very cave, you were returned to me, and I never want to be apart from you again. I will honour you and love you for the rest of our days. You are everything to me."

Draco felt his hands shake as he gripped Hermione's.

"Well," rasped out Mr. Weasley, his own cheeks wet. "I see no point in delaying this wonderful union any further."

He held up his wand, closed his eyes, and started to speak as a white light enveloped them.

"In the name of all things magical, mysterious, ancient and true, I declare you husband and wife."

Draco and Hermione rushed into each other's arms, kissing each other with a ferocity that surprised even them.

Suddenly, a rumble that might as well have been an earthquake took over the cave, and the space shook with approval. The hum of magic was so strong that the guests had to steady themselves against the walls or floor, whichever was closest.

A ribbon of gold snaked up from the ground and enveloped the couple, swirling around them and levitating them in the air. Hermione giggled happily and Draco held her close, knowing they weren't in danger. Far from it.

The magic spoke to both of them this time.

_We are pleased that your love has brought you back here today._

_You will live long, happy lives, and your daughter will be a true joy, watching carefully over all her siblings._

_Take care of yourselves, and cherish each other._

Hermione's eyes snapped up to Draco's as the magic slowly put them back down, the sound of everyone's celebrations echoing around them.

"I'm sorry... Did the magic just say 'all her siblings'?" she stammered.

Draco stared back with bug-eyed shock, and swallowed heavily.

"I believe it did."

"Draco, does this mean what I think it means?" she said, an astounded smile on her face.

"That we will have to shag a lot to make plenty of babies?" he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Hermione snorted.

"I was going to say that life will never be dull, but I guess we both knew that already." The shock was wearing off quickly, and Hermione wore a lazy grin as she gazed at her new husband.

She considered her future for a moment, the happy cheers of her loved ones ringing in her ears. Living as a Malfoy in a house full of her and Draco's children? With Lucius and Narcissa as grandparents and Ron and Harry as surrogate uncles? With the Weasley brood as their extended family and her own parents to teach them about Muggle culture and dental hygiene?

No, life would never be dull. Not for a second.

 


End file.
